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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26029579">Confidence in Each Other</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Master_Of_Nyom/pseuds/Master_Of_Nyom'>Master_Of_Nyom</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Haikyuu!!</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Attempt at Humor, Crack, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Fluff and Angst, High School, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, M/M, Oikawa Tooru's Knee Injury, Seijoh!Suga, SeijohAU, Slow Build, Slow Burn, Teen Romance, You Should Have Come to Shiratorizawa</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-08-21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-02-07</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 07:21:51</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>8</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>68,703</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26029579</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Master_Of_Nyom/pseuds/Master_Of_Nyom</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Sugawara Koushi didn’t particularly hope to get into Seijoh - but now that he did manage to get in, he’s determined to make the best of it. This will be his new start and even though making his way into Seijoh’s volleyball team’s starting lineup won’t be an easy task, Suga refuses to give up without a fight.</p><p>It doesn’t help that the one he’ll be going up against is Oikawa Tooru, Kitagawa Daiichi’s star setter and the best setter of the entire prefecture. And it definitely does not help that said setter is determined to drag Suga out of the misery his middle school team left him in by any and all means necessary and somehow manages to win his heart over in the process.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Hanamaki Takahiro &amp; Sugawara Koushi, Hanamaki Takahiro/Matsukawa Issei, Iwaizumi Hajime &amp; Oikawa Tooru, Kyoutani Kentarou/Yahaba Shigeru, Oikawa Tooru/Sugawara Koushi</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>230</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>444</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Up for a Challenge</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>LET'S. FUCKING. GO!</p><p>Hello everybody and welcome to my OiSuga hell, prompted by the general lack of SeijohAUs and my love and appreciation (read: unhealthy obsession) for every and all Haikyuu!! fanfiction! (like istg, I've spent probably one third of my lifespan on this website, end me) I guess I wanted to contribute to the fandom by writing something for a while now, so here I am with an almost entirly self-indulgent clusterfuck of a fic.</p><p>Some basic info: in this lovely AU Suga has never been to Karasuno, it's not one of those transfer student prompts. Suga's place in Karasuno will be filled with an original character, and while we're at it, beware, dear Reader-san, for this fic will have a few OCs. Or a lot. Some are obvious, like family members and random schoolmates, some are more plot relevant than the others. I think you're gonna love them... probably. When I say it's Slow Burn, I am not exaggerating. It's so slow you didn't even know the meaning of that word until now. I might add some more tags as I go, I didn't wanna add too many and make a mess from the get-go.</p><p>Shoutout to my beta, <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/alive_polish_fan">alive_polish_fan</a> who's the absolute sweetheart for helping me out when she doesn't know jack shit about Haikyuu aside from "oh it's that gay volleyball anime you like". She'll enter the scene soon enough with some SPN fics that I'm beta'ing too, so stay tuned everybody.</p><p>Now, enough with the bullshit! Let's fucking GOOO</p><p>Chaper 1: In which first days are a pain, first friend is made and playing volleyball in PE reveals some interesting facts.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>A small crowd of middle school students formed in front of a notice board, on which the entrance exams results were posted. Constant murmuring and soft groans of disappointment were only occasionally interrupted by some happy cheering. It was of no surprise really – Aoba Johsai High could be considered a prestigious school, what with its high level of both education and sports. Having only <em>decent</em> grades just wouldn’t cut it. </p><p> </p><p>Which was exactly why one Sugawara Koushi was frozen in place a little distanced from the crowd, dreading what he would see on the board if he decided to close the distance and <em> just check goddamnit. </em> </p><p> </p><p>Taking the exam in itself was a big move on Suga’s part. Don’t get him wrong, he wasn’t afraid of working hard; heck, he most certainly <em> worked his ass off </em> studying for the last couple of months. He just knew the limits his hard work tended to have and wasn’t mentally prepared for the proof of his incapability written out in front of him.  </p><p> </p><p>Okay, so maybe he was a little self-conscious. Just a tiny little bit. A lot. Sue him. </p><p> </p><p><em>‘Okay Suga, just get your shit together and check the goddamn results.’ </em> He clapped both hands on his cheeks, took a few deep breaths and moved towards the end of the crowd. Standing on tiptoes, he craned his head a little scanning the list of names until he found his. With a giant ‘PASSED’ right next to it. </p><p> </p><p>He did it. </p><p> </p><p>He actually did it. </p><p> </p><p>“Ha! Told you even <em> you </em> would get in Iwa-chan!” a voice somewhere to his left exclaimed cheerily. Following the sound, Suga noticed two boys in matching uniforms, one of them slightly taller with fluffy chocolate hair. The other teen had short spiky hair and looked visibly pissed. </p><p> </p><p><em>‘</em><em>Not that I’m surprised’ </em>Suga thought and watched with a tiny smirk as ‘Iwa-chan’ punched the awfully cheery dude on the side and then proceeded to drag him away saying something that Suga didn’t hear over the whiny “It hurts, Iwa-chan you brute!” from the other. </p><p> </p><p><em>‘They looked kinda familiar,’ </em> he slowly made his way out of the school complex towards the nearest bus stop. Now that the stress was gone, he felt refreshed, <em> ‘Though I can’t think of where I might’ve seen them before.’ </em> </p><p> </p><p>Suga sighed. He wasn’t necessarily <em> hoping </em> to get in Seijoh, he mostly chose it because he knew that none of his former teammates was going to apply here. His middle school volleyball team wasn’t anything special and the members were definitely not remarkable enough to get a sports scholarship (or get noticed for anything really). Now that he <em> did </em> get in though, it was a perfect opportunity for him. </p><p> </p><p>This was his new start and he was going to make the best of it. </p><p> </p><p>*** </p><p>The only, biggest flaw of his ‘Going to a super prestigious school to avoid stumbling into my former teammates’ master plan was that he didn’t know absolutely <em> anyone </em> here. Which in hindsight Suga should have realized sooner, as it was kind of <em> the entire point </em>of said plan, but still. Having even one close person would’ve definitely been comforting. </p><p> </p><p><em>‘Then again, it’s not like I had anyone close to me by the end of third year’ </em> Suga thought to himself, chewing lightly on his bottom lip. </p><p> </p><p>Walking through seemingly endless corridors of Seijoh, (because jeez, everything about this place just had to be grand, hadn’t it?) Suga was brimming with all kinds of nervous energy. There was, unsurprisingly, the regular anxiety, which was on the verge of transcending into more of an <em> irregular </em> realm, if the number of times he wiped his sweaty palms on the checkered pants of his new school uniform was any indication. But that wasn’t all there was to it. </p><p> </p><p>Suga was positively <em> itching </em> in anticipation, the amount of unspent energy crawling underneath his skin just begging to be used. He couldn’t wait to find out just how different, how much <em> better </em> Aoba Johsai Volleyball Club was in comparison to his middle school team, and the fact that official club activities won’t start until early next week didn’t help ease his agitation. </p><p> </p><p>Double-checking the small plate above the door, Suga slowly made his way into class 1-3, pausing for a moment by the still empty teacher’s desk to check for his assigned seat. He went to the fourth seat by the window overlooking both baseball and soccer pitch. Next to them on the left was presumably the volleyball hall. </p><p> </p><p>“Hey, isn’t that guy kinda cute? The one with grey hair?” he overheard some female classmate whisper excitedly to another and desperately tried not to blush as he sat down and unpacked his bag. Suga thought he was well over getting all flustered whenever someone complimented him, “Oh my gosh, yes! Have you seen that single mole by his eye? So cute!” but nope, he was rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly, a number 1 on his ‘How to Spot a Flustered Sugawara’ guideline.</p><p> </p><p>His attention was diverted from the giggling girls when another student entered and damn, was he <em> tall </em> , taller than Suga by what? 4 inches? 5? Is he really a first year like him? And more importantly, are Suga’s eyes playing a trick on him or is that guy’s hair seriously <em> pink </em>? </p><p> </p><p>This frantic train of thought was suddenly interrupted by the pink head (seriously, <em> why? </em>) sitting, or rather slumping, at the desk to his right and turning to look at him. </p><p> </p><p>“Sup, neighbor. Name’s Hanamaki Takahiro. Nice to meet you,” he drawled in a slightly bored tone, but seemed overall friendly in a kind of nonchalant manner. Suga beamed at him and chirped his own greeting, “Hi! I’m Sugawara Koushi, but you can call me Suga if you want. Nice to meet you too, Hanamaki-kun.” </p><p> </p><p>Hanamaki shook his head disapprovingly, “So polite, Silver-kun, color me surprised.” </p><p> </p><p>“<em> ‘Silver-kun’ </em>?” Suga snickered to which Hanamaki shrugged. “If you’re being all courteous and what-not then I’m giving you a nickname.” </p><p> </p><p>“I told you, you can call me Suga.” </p><p> </p><p>“But you didn’t forbid me from being a little more creative.” </p><p> </p><p>Suga snorted and then smiled a little deviously. “Okay, then I’m gonna call you Strawberry-kun,” Hanamaki spluttered. “What’s with the pink anyway? Doesn’t help much with upkeeping the whole <em> ‘intimidating persona’ </em>thing you have.” </p><p> </p><p>Hanamaki gasped loudly, clutching tightly on his chest in mock offense, “Excuse <em> you </em> , that is <em> not </em> pink. It’s called <em> strawberry blond </em>, thank you very much.” </p><p> </p><p>“All the more reason to call you Strawberry-kun," Suga shrugged, to which Hanamaki replied with fake indignance, “That’s rich coming from you, Silver-kun. Did you get so stressed over the first day that you turned grey overnight? Should I call you ‘grandpa’ instead?” </p><p> </p><p>“Kids these days sure don’t know how to properly show respect for their elders,” Suga replied in his best old man impersonation. However, he made a mistake of looking Hanamaki straight in the eye while speaking and by the end of his sentence they both managed to keep their deadpan expressions for the entirety of two seconds before simultaneously bursting into laughter. </p><p> </p><p>“You’re a funny guy Suga, I’ll give you that,” Hanamaki said after a while, sounding a little out of breath. “Tell you what, you’ve earned yourself a right to call me by any nickname of your choosing.” </p><p> </p><p>Suga perked up at that, while internally cheering to himself in victory over hearing the other boy call him by his preferred nickname. “Anything I want?” he confirmed just in case. </p><p> </p><p>“Do your worst,” Hanamaki nodded. </p><p> </p><p>“Okay then,” Suga hummed in thought, now that was a challenge. Hanamaki seemed like a chill dude and his intimidating look contrasted heavily with the amused twinkle to his eyes Suga was able to clearly see even now... But maybe that was it. Maybe his jovial manner and that <em> atrocious </em> pink hair was meant to soften the image. So, something soft, but not overly fluffy, “How about... Makki.” </p><p> </p><p>Hanamaki contemplated that for a minute. “Sounds like something you’d call a girl,” something told Suga the other didn’t consider it a flaw at all, “Makes me cringe a little.” Again, Suga got the feeling that he didn’t mind at all. “Disgusting. I like it,” he concluded and grinned at the silver-haired boy. </p><p> </p><p>Suga couldn’t help but grin back at him. “Are dumb jokes like this all it takes to win you over?” he asked teasingly. Makki mused it a little before replying, “Sure. Well, that and volleyball. Also, sweets - you can never have too much sweets.” </p><p> </p><p>“You play volleyball too?” Suga questioned excitedly, “What position? I played uh- setter!” He hoped Makki didn’t catch the slight hesitation at the end of that sentence. Then again, he should probably stop overthinking everything that happened at middle school and finally get over it. </p><p> </p><p>His thoughts were stopped abruptly by a hand clasping lightly on his shoulder. “Sugawara Koushi, I hereby declare you my favorite person so far,” Makki said with a completely serious expression.  </p><p> </p><p>Suga snorted, “There hasn’t been much competition yet.”  </p><p> </p><p>“Shut up. Write your last will but keep your objections to yourself – you are stuck with me from now on.” Another hand was placed on his free shoulder, “Will you be my partner in crime?” </p><p> </p><p>Again, they managed to refrain from laughter for all about two seconds before lying flat on Suga’s desk and practically <em> wheezing </em>. They were still catching their breaths and receiving weird glances from fellow classmates by the time the bell rang and their homeroom teacher strolled in to introduce himself and begin the orientation period.  </p><p> </p><p>“Jeez, what is wrong with us?” Suga mumbled under his breath, which somehow Makki heard just fine and snorted. </p><p> </p><p>“People like us gotta stick together,” he whispered back. “Also, I'll take the ‘us’ in that sentence as a ‘yes’. Let’s do our worst, partner.” </p><p> </p><p>Suga was then and there seriously glad he made it into Seijoh. </p><p> </p><p>*** </p><p>“So,” Makki started questioningly, “was your middle school team any good?” </p><p> </p><p>They were setting up a net for their class’s PE. One thing Suga was pleasantly surprised about, was the sheer enthusiasm for volleyball the majority of the students possessed, not limited to players themselves. <em> ‘They sure are cheering for one of the strongest teams in the prefecture.’ </em> </p><p> </p><p>“Not really,” he replied, mind going back to the conversation at hand. “They usually got eliminated during the first day of the prelims, rarely making it to the second match even.” They never made it to the second match aside from that one time during his last Inter Middle tournament, though Suga didn’t feel like going into much detail about <em> that </em> particular match. It still left kind of a bitter aftertaste. </p><p> </p><p>“Everything alright?” Makki’s question startled Suga, who didn’t even notice he got lost in thought and went silent for a minute. </p><p> </p><p>“Hmm? Oh yeah, I’m fine,” Suga looped the net’s end securely around the pole and proceeded to tie it into a neat double knot, “Anyway, the club was rather small with barely enough players to play at all. Most members weren’t much invested and didn’t work that hard. There wasn’t even a libero until my third year,” he debated whether to say what else he had in mind or not, but figured it would be fine either way, “though I guess there was one amazing person.” </p><p> </p><p>They finished setting up the net and moved a little to the side to do some warm-up. “Oh yeah? What position did he play?” Makki asked. </p><p> </p><p>“Setter.” </p><p> </p><p>“Feeling that confident about your skills, huh?” he teased snickering a little, to which Suga shrugged, “Never said I was talking about myself.” </p><p> </p><p>Makki raised one eyebrow questioningly, so he continued, “Well, there was this new first year who was <em> actually </em> keen on volleyball unlike the rest of the team. He didn’t work really hard, but was pretty talented regardless and the team liked him.” <em> ‘Unlike me’ </em> Suga thought bitterly to himself. </p><p> </p><p>“So, he basically robbed you of your starting position?” Makki asked, straightening from his half-bent position on the floor. Suga was surprised by the tone of his voice - slightly offended, like it was him who had been wronged and not Suga. It made him kinda happy, knowing he’d made such a great friend right off the bat. </p><p> </p><p>In the three days they had known each other Suga found himself easily falling in tune with the strawberry blond (though he still thought about him as pink-headed, not that he admitted it out loud). Makki was mostly an easy-going guy, who always had a snarky remark ready, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t be serious about anything. He was probably as crazy about volleyball as Suga was and just like him, he couldn’t wait for official club activities to begin on Monday. Today’s PE really was a blessing in disguise, even though the rest of their classmates wouldn’t be as good as them, they still got to play volleyball. </p><p> </p><p>“Not necessarily robbed, it was more of a give-away really,” Makki looked particularly bewildered by his choice of words, so Suga hastily added, “I mean, he was good and the team captain – ah, he was kind of the coach also, since there wasn’t one – thought the team would perform better if he got to play from the start so, yeah...”  </p><p> </p><p>Makki leveled him with a scolding glare, but before Suga could even open his mouth he sighed heavily, “You don’t have much confidence in yourself, do you?” </p><p> </p><p>“That’s not it,” Suga bit his lower lip and extended his hand to help Makki stand up, “It’s just that... I’m not gonna sabotage the team’s performance for my own sake. That guy had some really impressive skills, maybe way better than mine but he was more...” </p><p> </p><p><em>‘Normal? Not a disgusting pervert like me? Or actually </em> wanted <em> there by the team? There’s no way I can say that.’ </em> </p><p> </p><p>“... Nevermind. It was a given really. And the team <em> did </em> win a match because of that, so I’m not that bitter about it.” </p><p> </p><p>One thing he came to appreciate about Makki was his sensibility. He was obviously an extremely perceptive guy, being able to see when Suga was uncomfortable about something, but usually didn’t press him for details, if he didn’t deem it necessary. </p><p> </p><p>Just like now, he only took his hand and hummed a little affirmative noise. He did look like he wanted to say something more, but before he could do so their teacher called them all up to divide them in two teams. </p><p> </p><p>They ended up on the same team, which Makki was especially happy about, saying, “Well then, Mr. ‘I’m not that good of a setter’, let’s see if you’re actually as bad as you claim, hm?” They teased each other like that often, so Suga was not in the slightest bit offended. Which still didn’t stop him from elbowing Makki in the ribs just a <em> tad </em> bit too forcefully, just like he liked his playful jabs to be. </p><p> </p><p>Although he was as enthusiastic about volleyball as everyone else, that still didn’t change the fact that playing in class was more of a casual game than full-on competition, with an almost non-existent block, sloppy tosses and spikes done by whoever was up front at the moment. That being said Suga still did his best to observe everyone on both his and opposing team intently, so that he could give them the best tosses to his abilities. </p><p> </p><p>Makki really stood out among other players in terms of skills (though his height did a damn good job <em> literally </em> making him stand out). His spikes were practically bouncing off of receivers' hands to the sides of the court and when he decided to jump for a block ( <em> if </em> he decided to), he didn’t have much problem with stopping their much weaker attacks.  </p><p> </p><p>That’s why, when Suga finally got the chance to set for him, he felt unsatisfied – since they’d never had practiced together beforehand, they couldn’t go for anything besides 3rd tempo attacks and that was simply <em> not enough. </em> </p><p> </p><p>“I would <em> so </em> like to spike for real now,” Makki grumbled unhappily, wiping his brow with the hem of his t-shirt. </p><p> </p><p>“Yeah, I get what you’re saying,” Suga replied just as unhappily, moving with the rotation after the opposing team’s failed receive. </p><p> </p><p><em>‘Seriously,’ </em> he thought bumping a ball two times before holding it up for a serve, <em> ‘Monday just couldn’t come any sooner.’ </em> </p><p> </p><p>He aimed the ball close to the back line, right in-between two receivers, who simultaneously went to bump it only to stop dead in their tracks seeing the other’s movement. A nasty spot to hit. </p><p> </p><p>“Nice serve!” Makki high-fived him, grinning, “Give us one more.” Suga’s second serve didn’t have that nice of a course though and the opposing team scored a point and moved for their own serve. </p><p> </p><p>Jumping slightly on the balls of his feet Suga observed the other side of the net intently. From his position at the very back of the court he could vaguely discern the server’s silhouette obscured by the blockers up front. He glanced back at his teammates from his peripherals instead. </p><p> </p><p>He was still looking at them when the ball made its way over the net and one of his classmates moved to retrieve it. That’s why he noticed the exact moment the ball made contact with the boy’s arms and just <em> knew </em>. </p><p> </p><p><em>‘</em><em>It’s gonna bounce off.’ </em> </p><p> </p><p>One part of his brain, the more rational part, knew that it was unreasonable and completely unnecessary to try and get that ball. It was just a casual PE match and throwing himself onto the floor, even well practiced, could always mean risking some kind of injury. Trying that hard at class was just uncalled for. </p><p> </p><p>But the other, more subconscious part, didn’t give a damn and was already pulling his muscles into a smooth, familiar motion of a dive. </p><p> </p><p>The ball connected with his outstretched arms and went flying over his head and in the direction of, “Makki! Hit the last!” </p><p> </p><p>Makki took two short steps and jumped slightly – the ball was a little low, but he was able to smash it into the floor regardless. He strode to Suga and pulled him up back on his feet. </p><p> </p><p>“That was insane, Suga! How’d you know Yoshida would mess this one up?” he asked excitedly as Suga wiped his palms on his gym shorts.  </p><p> </p><p><em>‘So, Yoshida was his name, </em> ’ Suga thought over the offended “Hey!”, presumably from said classmate, <em> ‘I need to start remembering their names.’ </em> </p><p> </p><p>“His form was a little off, so I knew the ball would rebound,” he replied smiling sheepishly, “I kinda went all instinct on that one, though.” </p><p> </p><p><em>‘</em><em>Also, I’ve seen my teammates mess up with receives enough to know when things would start to go south, but don’t mind me.’ </em> </p><p> </p><p>“Really? Didn’t look like that to me,” Makki exclaimed, seemingly unconvinced, but then clapped him on the shoulder, <em> hard </em>. “Whatever. That was still a damn nice receive.” </p><p> </p><p>“Gee, thanks,” Suga grumbled unhappily massaging his shoulder, though the amused lilt in his tone gave him away, making Makki grin widely. </p><p> </p><p>The rest of the match was mostly uneventful and soon they found themselves changing back into their uniforms and packing for the day, their energy not spent <em> at all </em>.  </p><p> </p><p>They were leaving the main school building when Makki asked suddenly, “Hey Suga?” Suga hummed lightly, prompting him to continue, “You <em> are </em> planning on signing in for volleyball, right?” </p><p> </p><p>Suga frowned, confused, “Of course I am. Why are you asking?” He felt it was a stupid thing to ask. </p><p> </p><p>Makki looked hesitant for a moment before replying slowly, as if he was choosing his words carefully, “Well, I just wanted to make sure you were aware of...” the rest of that sentence got interrupted by some girls squealing loudly to their right. Makki tsked, his brow furrowing, “Speak of the devil.” </p><p> </p><p>Following the sound, Suga saw a small sea of girls, bouncing excitedly around a tall guy with chocolate locks. Honestly, it might have looked hilariously cute because of the height difference between this guy and his little admirers, if not for the constant giggling and squealing and <em> oh my god, </em> can they get any more <em> annoying? </em> </p><p> </p><p><em>‘Wait, isn’t he that guy I’ve seen when the results came in?’ </em> Suga looked around a bit and yep, there was the grumpy friend, alright. He snickered at the raven-haired teen’s obviously pissed off expression, but then he overheard one of the girls ask, “Oikawa-san can I take a selfie with you?” and his body visibly froze. </p><p> </p><p><em>‘Are you fucking kidding me right now?!’ </em> </p><p> </p><p>“Is that <em> the </em> Oikawa Tooru? From Kitagawa Daiichi?” Makki’s sour look proved to be the only confirmation he needed, “What is he doing in Seijoh? Didn’t he go to Shiratorizawa?” </p><p> </p><p>He vaguely remembered hearing about Shiratorizawa having an eye on Oikawa’s performance. Which wasn’t surprising – after all, Shiratorizawa was known for fishing for only the strongest players in the prefecture and Oikawa was definitely one of those. Hell, he even won the goddamn Best Setter Award. </p><p> </p><p>Makki only shrugged, “Pfft, I dunno. Doesn’t really matter to me,” he paused, looking at him as if considering something before going on, “but it might be a bit of a problem to you, Mr. Setter.” </p><p> </p><p>Suga felt himself stiffen at that. It’s not like he was hoping to instantly make it into the first string. He was realistic – Aoba Johsai was a powerhouse school, with a number of reserve players for coaches to choose from. He knew that no matter the amount of hard work and determination he puts into practice, he would still probably spend his first and maybe even some of his second year watching the team play from the stands. But he was hoping to get a starting position someday. </p><p> </p><p>With Oikawa here, his chances suddenly dropped from slim to downright <em> impossible.  </em></p><p> </p><p><em>“I’m really sorry about this Sugawara,” </em> his captain’s fake apologetic tone still resounded in his head, <em> “but you know how it is. He’s a good player and we gotta do what’s best for the team. You don’t mind, do you?” </em> </p><p> </p><p>It really didn’t sit right with him<em> at all.  </em></p><p> </p><p>“Hey Makki?” he found himself asking, not tearing his gaze away from Oikawa and his little fanclub until they passed them by. Makki hummed an affirmative noise. “Do you have anything to do today?” </p><p> </p><p>“No, not really. Why?” </p><p> </p><p>“Do you mind going with me somewhere?” </p><p> </p><p><em>“You don’t mind, do you?” </em> </p><p> </p><p>He did. He did mind an awful <em>lot.</em> </p><p> </p><p>“Nope~,” Makki drawled, making a little popping sound on the ‘p’. “Where are we going?” </p><p> </p><p>Suga smirked a little to himself, “You’ll see.” </p><p> </p><p>*** </p><p>“Sorry for the intrusion!” Suga chirped opening the doors to the rec center, some frequently visiting college students greeting him on his way in, Makki at his heels. </p><p> </p><p>He didn’t even protest when Suga practically <em>dragged</em> him here straight after school, only raising one eyebrow in surprise without saying anything. He did whine when they had to put on their sweaty gym clothes again because, “They are still wet and gross, Suga. This is <em>so</em> <em>not </em>nice,” but didn’t ask any questions whatsoever about why he dragged him to the public gym in the first place. </p><p> </p><p>Suga was seriously grateful for that. </p><p> </p><p>“Haven’t seen you here in a while kiddo,” he heard a bored drawl exclaim and turned around beaming at the middle-aged man standing behind him. </p><p> </p><p>“Hello, Kiyoshi-san!” </p><p> </p><p>Kiyoshi looked around and mumbled, “We don’t have enough members to play a full match again,” he turned his attention back to Suga, “though, if you want help with receiving practice again...” </p><p> </p><p>“Oh no, it’s fine,” he chimed in quickly, not missing Makki tilting his head a little in a questioning manner, “Actually, I was wondering if me and my friend here could do a little spiking practice instead. If that won’t be a problem.” </p><p> </p><p>“’Course not,” Kiyoshi hummed but then grinned slightly, “though knowing the other guys, they won’t let you off the hook unless you toss for them at least a few times.” </p><p> </p><p>“Sure thing!” Suga laughed and then proceeded to drag Makki to run some laps around the court. </p><p> </p><p>They were running their third lap in complete silence before Makki decided he had enough of it. </p><p> </p><p>“So,” he started, “spiking practice?” </p><p> </p><p>Suga only hummed, looking pointedly ahead, but the pink-haired teen  was having none of it. He sent him his most exasperated glare until the tiny hairs on the back of Suga’s head stood up. </p><p> </p><p>“Well, you said you wanted to spike ‘for real’ right?” Suga gave in, still under the onslaught of Makki’s glare, “And frankly, I can’t live off of this little sneak preview we had today at class. And hey! We can start working on our timing, I’ll give you some proper tosses this time. So it’s fine, right?” </p><p> </p><p>Makki mumbled something incoherent under his breath, clearly unconvinced, but didn’t prompt any further. He really made one great friend, the cheeky bastard. </p><p> </p><p>They grabbed a cart full of volleyballs and moved it to the left side of the net. Makki took one and twirled it a little in his hands while Suga went up to the middle of the net. </p><p> </p><p>“So, you wanna work on 1st tempo attacks?” Makki asked. </p><p> </p><p>“Mhm. That and the height and speed of the toss itself,” Suga said doing some arm stretches, “I feel like all my tosses today were a little too low. I guess I kinda got used to playing with guys shorter than you.”  </p><p> </p><p>Makki huffed an amused breath, “It’s not like I’m a giant or anything.” </p><p> </p><p>“Well yeah, but you can still jump higher than most of the guys on my middle school team,” Suga admitted jumping a little to alleviate some tension from his muscles. A thought came to his mind, making him grin mischievously, “It might also be that I made them a little too fast, so they started falling more quickly.” </p><p> </p><p>“Hmm, might be so. I’m not that fast of a jumper,” Makki agreed, making Suga grin even wider. </p><p> </p><p><em>‘Gotcha.’ </em> </p><p> </p><p>“You mean you’re just lazy as fuck.” </p><p> </p><p>“Shut up,” Makki grumbled, though Suga could see the corner of his mouth twitching. He raised the ball to his face, eyebrows lifting pointedly, “Shall we?” </p><p> </p><p>Suga nodded and Makki threw the ball over himself, only to pass it overhand to Suga and immediately go towards the net and jump for a hit. </p><p> </p><p>They couldn’t get the timing right <em> at all. </em> The first few times it was still too fast, making it past Makki’s outstretched hand even before it got there. Then he made them too slow, missing his hand entirely and falling on the floor with a soft thud. </p><p> </p><p>He might have also messed up with the height so much that he managed to practically toss Makki to the face with one particularly low toss. He had to listen to the taller boy whine “Betrayal!” for five minutes straight before coaxing him into trying again with a karate chop to the side, both of them snickering wholeheartedly. </p><p> </p><p>Two empty carts and not even one successful try later Suga was getting visibly pissed, which Makki immediately pounced on, because <em> of course he would </em>. </p><p> </p><p>“You oughtn’t frown so much, angel,” he said, clapping him hard on the shoulder <em> again. </em> “You’ll get wrinkles at this point and what a shame it would be.” </p><p> </p><p>Suga smoothed his expression into his softest, most innocent-looking smile, the one he practiced every morning before the mirror for the last two years or so, “Oh really?” </p><p> </p><p>Makki covered his eyes with his hand, as if shielding them from the light, “Argh it hurts! So bright! Please, have mercy on this mere mortal, oh divine being!” </p><p> </p><p>Suga giggled loudly, Makki soon joining him with his full-blown laughter. “Wanna try again?” he asked after they caught their breaths. </p><p> </p><p>“Sure,” Suga replied, feeling strangely relaxed. Count on Makki to know exactly what he needed to feel better in an instant. Suga was certain he had some kind of inner eye, seeing right through people with just one quick glance. </p><p> </p><p>That laugh right there was seriously all they both needed to make it work just right. The next time Makki jumped for a spike, the ball was already there, swiftly connecting with his palm and smashing into the ground on the far end of the court. </p><p> </p><p>They both grinned at each other and said in unison, “One more time.” </p><p> </p><p>*** </p><p>“Waaah, I’m beat!” Suga exclaimed happily. Though he was tired, he felt positively giddy, stretching his arms behind his back until his joints made a pleasant ‘pop’. </p><p> </p><p>“Mhm,” mumbled Makki, eating a popsicle. Honestly, Suga thought eating ice-cream this early into the season was way too much way too soon, but oh well, to each their own. </p><p> </p><p>They made their way to the train station in pleasant silence, though Suga could sense the inquisitive air around the strawberry blond and wondered if he should say something or not. </p><p> </p><p>“I’m kind of confused, you know,” Makki beat him to it. </p><p> </p><p>“About what?” he asked, even though he had an inkling of what Makki might say next. </p><p> </p><p>“You confuse me in general,” Suga raised an eyebrow, not expecting that kind of answer at all. “I mean, earlier today you struck me as a kind of guy who gives up easily, I guess. What with the setter thing? So I was kinda worried you wouldn’t even try and fight for the starting position. But that’s obviously not the case, is it?” </p><p> </p><p>Suga hummed affirmatively, “Not gonna lie, I am kind of intimidated,” he rubbed his left forearm subconsciously, “I mean, who wouldn’t be, going up against <em> Oikawa Tooru </em> of all people. I wouldn’t be surprised if I didn’t even get to be his substitute setter.” </p><p> </p><p>His mind flashed back to middle school. Right after they lost the second match, he sat at the bleachers watching Kitagawa Daiichi play on the court below. He remembered thinking that <em> ‘wow, this is what a true setter should be like’. </em> He wondered if the guy he got replaced with would one day grow to be as strong as Oikawa Tooru was. </p><p> </p><p>He wondered how much harder <em> he </em> would have to work to reach that level. </p><p> </p><p>But then he focused on the other players, on how they trusted each other, connecting play after play and visibly <em> shining </em> under Oikawa’s careful guidance and wondered another thing. </p><p> </p><p><em>‘If I ever became that strong, would the team also have my back like that?’ </em> </p><p> </p><p>He got sick of watching others’ backs go further away from him. </p><p> </p><p>“But I kinda lied before,” he said shaking the thoughts out of his head, “when I said I wasn’t bitter about getting benched like that.” </p><p> </p><p>Makki didn’t make any sound at all, though Suga instinctively knew he had his full attention. </p><p> </p><p>“I did get mad. A lot. But not at that first year. And not at the captain, even though I probably should have,” he let out a dry chuckle. </p><p> </p><p><em>‘I got a lot more other reasons to be mad at him.’ </em> </p><p> </p><p>He took a deep breath before continuing, “I was mostly mad at myself. For giving up so easily.” </p><p> </p><p>Makki opened his mouth to say something, then closed it as if thinking against it. “But you didn’t give up,” he said finally, “at least, not really.” </p><p> </p><p>Suga twisted his fingers nervously. “No,” he concluded, “I didn’t.” </p><p> </p><p>They went silent for a minute, Suga then and there thinking that Makki probably figured out more to his story than he let on. He was seriously thankful for his newfound friend’s consideration. </p><p> </p><p>“You don’t have to worry about me,” he said firmly, putting all the determination he didn’t know he had into his next words, “I <em> am </em> gonna fight for it. Doesn’t matter how hard it will be. I’m up for a challenge.” </p><p> </p><p>He was pleasantly surprised to realize that he <em> was </em> telling the truth and <em> meaning it </em>. </p><p> </p><p>Makki jabbed him playfully then, grinning, “That’s all I really wanted to hear.” </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Let's Make It a Three-way</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>In which too many gay jokes are cracked, Makki is the Superior Gay™ and our duo becomes a trio.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Being friends with Makki quickly proved to be a chaotic experience. </p><p> </p><p>For starters, even though he seemed infinitely bored and mildly exhausted on a good day, he was literally everything <em>but that</em>. Suga had a sneaking suspicion that Makki rarely went to sleep earlier than 2 in the morning, judging by the number of memes Suga received on various times of the night. That should have made Makki <em>at least</em> a teeny tiny bit tired in the morning and it did, but just one nap during class was all it took for his energy reserves to go from 0 to a 100. </p><p> </p><p>Never before had Suga thought something like that to be humanly possible. </p><p> </p><p>These excessive amounts of energy either went for volleyball (which Suga was happy to engage in, and so they both ended up going to the rec center every day after school) or for fitting as many memes into one sentence as he could. Which was equally as hilarious as it was annoying. </p><p> </p><p>That being said, he was still proving to be perfectly capable of staying silent over long periods of time when he wanted to. </p><p> </p><p><em> If </em> he wanted to. And when it mattered. </p><p> </p><p>Which was completely fine and something Suga came to appreciate over this last week. </p><p> </p><p>They were going for their very first volleyball practice that day. They’d handed in their application forms a few days earlier and were pleasantly surprised upon entering the club’s locker room to find out the lockers have already been assigned, theirs being right next to one another, though Suga was a little less happy when he looked at the nameplate on the locker to his right. </p><p> </p><p><em> ‘Curse the gods and irony of it all,’ </em> Suga thought, dumping his bag on the bench as more club members filed in, <em> ‘for placing me right next to Oikawa Tooru, of all people.’ </em></p><p> </p><p>It was kind of poetic, in a twisted way, to share so little space with his soon-to-be rival and arch-nemesis. Suga chuckled to himself, unzipping his bag and taking out his gym uniform, <em> ‘I’m getting a little overdramatic. Like hell he’ll consider me his rival.’ </em> </p><p> </p><p>And speak of the devil, in came the said star setter, whining loudly, “Geez, I feel like it’s been <em> forever </em> since we last played, right Iwa-chan?” </p><p> </p><p>Said friend grumbled a short affirmative noise, moving to open his locker and shoving his bag in as soon as he got it open before adding, “Oi, you better don’t go overworking yourself today Shittykawa.” </p><p> </p><p>Oikawa waved him off dismissively. “I know, I won’t,” he said swiftly slipping his blue button-down off and replacing it with a turquoise t-shirt, somehow not tousling any impeccably styled strand of hair out of place . Then he smiled innocently at his friend, “Iwa-chan are you my mom?” </p><p> </p><p>“Shut up Trashykawa and change!” the spiky-haired teen huffed, visibly pissed. </p><p> </p><p>“Alright, alright!” Oikawa shouted exasperatedly, ducking in time to dodge a blow directed at his head. “What’s got you in such a hurry?” </p><p> </p><p><em> “What’s got you in such a hurry, freak?” he heard one of his teammates, Ishimaru, snap at him before completely blocking off the door to the clubroom. </em> </p><p> </p><p>“Haah?! It’s you who practically run here, Assikawa!” </p><p> </p><p><em> Suga tightened his hold on the strap of his gym bag, “Um. I just wanna change. Could you let me in?” </em> </p><p> </p><p><em> Ishimaru laughed darkly, “Not here. Go somewhere else weirdo.” </em> </p><p> </p><p><em> “Huh?” Suga exclaimed, confused, “What? Why?” </em> </p><p> </p><p><em> The wing spiker slouched his arms and took one step towards him, making Suga back off instinctively. </em><em>“Listen up, because I won’t say it twice. I dunno how it is in your little fairyland but </em> here <em> ,” he waved a hand around them, “nobody wants to get ogled by a disgusting pervert like </em> you <em> , Sugawara.” </em> </p><p> </p><p><em> Suga felt his mouth gape slightly. “What are you talking about?” he asked disbelievingly, “I would never do that! Seriously, knock it off Maru.” He saw the chocolate hair of his team captain over Ishimaru’s shoulder and shouted, “Oi, Kayo! Do something with this idiot. This is ridiculous!” </em> </p><p> </p><p><em> He felt something push hard at his chest, making him lose his balance and tumble to the floor. He looked up only to be met with his teammate scowling at him. </em> </p><p> </p><p><em> “I warned you Sugawara. C’mon. Go. Somewhere. Else,” he spat out, punctuating every word and then disappearing into the clubroom. </em> </p><p> </p><p><em>The last thing Suga saw was Kayo standing there, saying, “I’ll see you at</em> <em>the gym,” before closing the door right in front of his face.</em> </p><p> </p><p>“You okay Suga?” Makki’s worried voice snapped him out of his thoughts. Suga looked up at him but immediately dropped his gaze to his hands, realizing he had been clutching his turquoise gym t-shirt tightly in one hand, the other turning white from the death grip on the bag’s zipper. </p><p> </p><p>“Sorry, I’m fine. Got lost in thought a little,” he replied hurriedly, unclenching his fists and moving to unbutton his shirt, “You can go on ahead, I’ll catch up in a minute.” </p><p> </p><p>Suga expected him to hum an affirmative and leave, but Makki flopped down on a bench right next to him and huffed, “Whatever. Hurry up sunshine.” </p><p> </p><p>He didn’t know whether to feel stressed out or reassured by that. </p><p> </p><p>Shaking his head in disbelief he doubled his efforts to change as quickly as possible and by the time he was done Makki had already slung an arm around his neck and steered him towards the gym. </p><p> </p><p>Once inside, they saw their upperclassmen lining up behind two older men, presumably their coaches; and another, smaller line consisting of first year newcomers, forming a few paces before them. Makki immediately strode to the very back of the line, dragging Suga with him and leaning on him like a deadweight. </p><p> </p><p>“Enough with it!” Suga whisper-yelled after a while, feeling like he would crumple under Makki’s weight any minute, his back protesting loudly. He attempted to push the taller boy off of him but simply lacked the strength to do so, “Ugh, stand up straight! You’re so fricking heavy!” </p><p> </p><p>“Even angry you’re still polite,” Makki mused to himself, completely unfazed, “I wonder what it would take to make you swear properly...” </p><p> </p><p>Suga glared at him vehemently, abandoning wrestling with his hold for a minute, “Keep crushing me like that and you won’t live long enough to witness my-” </p><p> </p><p>“Welcome to Aoba Johsai Volleyball Club,” the younger of the two men suddenly exclaimed, making both of them startle, realizing that everyone had already filed into the gym. Makki suddenly stood straight, making Suga stumble and elbow him in the ribs for good measure, “I am Coach Mizoguchi and this,” he gestured to the smiling middle-aged man next to him, “is this club’s advisor and Head Coach Irihata-sensei.” </p><p> </p><p>“Where do you hide this strength?” Makki whined, massaging his side. </p><p> </p><p>“Shut up!” Suga whispered angrily, “Or I’ll punch you again!” </p><p> </p><p>“Now as you may know, this team is not of an informal type. Our goal is clear – win the nationals – and every member is expected to contribute to achieving this goal. Any slackers,” he looked pointedly at them, making Suga blush profusely, while Makki remained as uninterested as always, “will not be tolerated. Now starting from my left please state your name, middle school you attended and favored position...” </p><p> </p><p>“I bet he’ll be targeting us after today,” Makki whispered, leaning to his side a little. </p><p> </p><p>“And whose fault do you think it is?!” Suga huffed, and opened his mouth to say something else but was interrupted by a deep voice somewhere to his right. </p><p> </p><p>“Iwaizumi Hajime from Kitagawa Daiichi. I played wing spiker,” Oikawa Tooru’s spiky-haired friend exclaimed, followed by a much more enthusiastic (way over enthusiastic) chirp, “Oikawa Tooru from Kitagawa Daiichi. I’m exactly 184 cm, my zodiac sign is Cancer. Personal goal is to become the greatest setter and beat the crap out of that bastard Ushiwaka-chan. Pleasure to meet you all~”  </p><p> </p><p>“Looks like there’s a lot of players from Kitaichi this year too, huh,” someone behind Suga mumbled dejectedly. </p><p> </p><p>“For real though,” another chimed in, “why do they always come here swarming like this? We won’t have basically any chance of making it into the first string!” </p><p> </p><p>“I'm pretty sure listening to him talk too much will give <em> me </em> cancer,” Makki deadpanned, rolling his eyes. Suga’s shoulders shook violently from barely-contained laughter. He thought he made it safe, but then Iwaizumi was punching Oikawa’s head shouting, “Nobody asked you for a full resume Idiotkawa!” and Suga had to clap his hand over his mouth to muffle his giggles. </p><p> </p><p>“I know you told me not to worry, but,” Makki’s suddenly serious tone snapped him out of his fit of laughter, “will you really be fine Suga?” </p><p> </p><p>Suga straightened up and smiled at him reassuringly, “Thanks Makki, but seriously, don’t worry. I’ll be alright.” </p><p> </p><p>When the guy on Suga’s right finished speaking, Suga looked at the coaches and upperclassmen with determination and said, voice strong and steady, “Sugawara Koushi from Nagamushi Junior High. I played as setter.” </p><p> </p><p>*** </p><p> </p><p>The next day Suga made sure not to linger in the locker room and change quickly, avoiding as much contact as possible. He also made sure not to overhear any conversations happening around him, eyes firmly settled on the small space in front of him. He tried to act in a nonchalant manner. However, his plan had a <em> single </em> flaw. </p><p> </p><p>One very observant, pink-headed flaw. </p><p> </p><p>Throughout the entire practice Suga could feel his friend’s intense gaze on his back, but aside from keeping an eye on him, Makki didn’t make any kind of move to confront him. Which in turn made Suga feel unnerved and fidgety, not knowing what to expect from the pink-haired spiker. </p><p> </p><p>He definitely didn’t expect to be asked to do extra spiking practice with him. </p><p> </p><p>Practice in Seijoh was <em> intense </em> to say the least. Despite it being only the second day, Suga was convinced he would hack his lungs up on the gym floor if he had to run any more laps around the entire volleyball complex. Which was huge and no wonder their senpais called the exercise ‘suicides’ because <em> holy shit </em> Suga seriously felt like dying right then and there. And Coach Mizoguchi just <em> loved </em> making them run suicides on every fucking occasion. </p><p> </p><p>Him and Makki were pretty goddamn exhausted the other day after practice (which was entirely Makki’s fault, the pink-head earning them way too many suicides) and opted for going straight home rather than staying and doing anything extra. It would probably take them at least a few more days to adjust to the relentless tempo of practice, so forcing themselves any further was not a good idea.  </p><p> </p><p>That didn’t stop Suga from agreeing though because one, if he wanted to outclass Oikawa Tooru he couldn’t slack off and two- </p><p> </p><p>He just wanted to have this conversation over as soon as possible. </p><p> </p><p>That didn’t help him feel any less nervous about having this conversation in the first place and definitely didn’t stop Suga’s internal debate of whether he should tell Makki anything or not and if yes, what exactly could he tell. </p><p> </p><p><em> ‘Some of my secrets’ </em> , he thought, <em> ‘would better be left unsaid.’ </em> </p><p> </p><p>They weren’t the only ones left after the initial practice was over – some of their upperclassmen decided to stay back for extra spikes or serves, but for the most part they were uninterrupted. He and Makki got really in sync over the last few days, to the point that setting for his pink-headed friend came almost subconsciously to Suga. He tried to get lost in their familiar motions but couldn’t get rid of the impending uneasiness, rising in him bit by bit with every other person leaving the gym. </p><p> </p><p>It felt like calm before the storm and he didn’t like himself for thinking about it that way. </p><p> </p><p>Finally, the last person besides them left and Suga tried to prepare himself for the dreaded question to come. What came out of Makki’s mouth, however, wasn’t what he expected to hear, “You didn’t really like your middle school team, did you?” </p><p> </p><p>Suga’s arms froze mid-set, causing the ball to fall to the ground and slowly roll back in Makki’s direction. He looked at the taller boy incredulously, mouth slightly agape, “Wha-”</p><p> </p><p>“I mean, I’m just assuming things now, but um,” Makki bent down to pick the ball up, not having heard him, or maybe deliberately choosing not to answer, “I just got that kinda feeling from you, the last few days.” </p><p> </p><p>Suga’s hands dropped limply to his sides, “From me?” </p><p> </p><p>“Mhm,” Makki hummed fumbling with the ball, not quite looking at him. “From small things really. Like how whenever you talked about your team you’d say ‘they’ but never ‘we’. Like you’d been distancing yourself from them on purpose,” he looked up then, staring right in Suga’s eyes, gaze unwavering, “Am I wrong?” </p><p> </p><p>Was he really doing that? Suga didn’t even notice. Maybe the distance between him and his team that grew throughout his third year became such a constant that he subconsciously started to think of them separately. Makki really was perceptive, to notice such a minor detail. </p><p> </p><p>“No,” Suga replied softly looking down, suddenly unable to maintain eye-contact with his friend, “you’re not wrong, but...” <em> ‘Are you sure you want to know why?’ </em> </p><p> </p><p>Makki spun the ball on his fingertip before catching it a few times. “Wanna know my theory about why that is?” he asked finally and his eyes got that unnerving look in them again, like he knew that Suga wanted out, but Makki expected him to stay regardless. </p><p> </p><p>“Um,” Suga swallowed audibly before replying, “sure, go ahead.” </p><p> </p><p>“I think,” Makki said, throwing the ball in the air, “that your captain didn’t replace you because that first year was any better.” He caught the ball with his left hand, tossed it to his right, then threw it again. “I think he tried to kick you out this way.” He caught the ball again and squeezed it hard, like it insulted him. “I think the rest of your team wanted you out just as bad. And I think they did that,” he looked at Suga then, cracking a small, apologetic smile, “because they found out you’re gay.” </p><p> </p><p>Suga’s mind cracked right then and there, the dam breaking and allowing through thoughts he had hoped to keep right there, at the back, where he couldn’t see them. He felt heat climbing up to his head, making his vision narrow and haze over and his ears ring. </p><p> </p><p>“I mean, feel free to say I’m wrong,” he barely registered Makki continue speaking, “In fact, <em> please </em> say I’m wrong. It pains me to even think you’d be wronged for such a stupid reason.” </p><p> </p><p>Suddenly everything around him stopped spinning out of control, Suga’s breathing evening just the slightest bit, mind focusing on his friend’s words. “Why do you think that?” he asked finally, voice entirely too small for his liking. </p><p> </p><p>Makki put the ball in the discarded cart and stuffed his hands in his short’s pockets before replying, “I, uh, kinda thought so? I mean I saw you in class and thought <em> ‘wow that guy is gay’ </em> and figured I could talk to you. Not with any weird intentions, I swear,” he raised his palms up in his own defense, “I mean... Urgh I’m so bad at this!” </p><p> </p><p>He started pulling at his hair then took a deep, steadying breath smoothing his palms over his gym shorts. “I like to think I’m good at reading people. Or at least decent, I dunno. So, I knew you were gay from the get-go? I assumed, I guess? Urgh...” he stuffed his hands in his pockets again, scuffing one shoe on the gym floor, back and forth, “But I kinda figured you didn’t really want to talk about it. And besides, you don’t just come up to a stranger and say ‘Hi, I’m gay and I think you’re gay too, wanna be friends?’ that’s like, <em> beyond </em> ridiculous!” </p><p> </p><p>He let out a forced chuckle before continuing, “And you’re just a generally fun guy to be around and I figured we’d talk about it eventually, so I didn’t wanna ask. But then I saw you act all strange yesterday in the club room and today too, and I thought <em> ‘okay, there’s something </em> really <em> wrong going on in that pretty head of yours’ </em> and I just, I dunno,” he had that ‘flustered with himself’ expression, but despite that still tried his best to look reassuring, “I guess what I’m trying to say is, if you wanna talk about it, you can. Talk to me, that is.” </p><p> </p><p>Suga felt conflicted. <em> ‘Surely, he couldn’t mean all that, could he?’ </em> his thoughts were all over the place, overanalyzing his friend’s intentions. <em> ‘But this is Makki – Makki who usually bottles his concerns away, unless he thinks talking about them would actually make things better. True, we might not know each other very long, but I can trust him... right? </em>’ </p><p> </p><p>“Please just say something,” Suga’s thoughts were interrupted by Makki’s slightly frantic and pleading tone. “If you don’t wanna talk about it that’s fine. Just, please don’t stand there like that.” </p><p> </p><p><em> 'It’s fine,’ </em> he decided, <em> ‘to take that chance.’ </em> </p><p> </p><p>“Wait, did you just say you were gay <em> ‘too’ </em>?” his throat felt so dry he was sure he sounded like a dying frog. He swallowed audibly but before he could finish Makki let out a disbelieving snort, “Of course that’s the one thing you’ll register. Goddamnit Suga, you’re exasperating.” </p><p> </p><p>In spite of the mood he was in, Suga snorted, which only spurred Makki on, “He laughs! Basic bodily functions intact, so he’s still alive. But um, Suga?” he asked on a more serious note. “Are you sure you want to? Cause I mean, it’s fine! Totally fine if you-” </p><p> </p><p>“Thanks, Makki,” Suga interrupted, before his friend could work himself into nervous word-vomit. </p><p> </p><p><em> ‘Seriously, who's the more worried one?’ </em> he thought to himself and added, “but I think it’s fine. And I, uh, think it would be good to, um. Let it out? I guess.” </p><p> </p><p>“Oh, cool, that’s... That’s cool, but um, maybe we should like, sit down? Cause, you’re kinda shaking, I dunno if you’ve noticed.” </p><p> </p><p>As soon as Makki said that, Suga became aware of the fact that <em> holy shit </em> was he shaking. He was utterly surprised that his legs didn’t just give out at some point because of the violent shivers. He nodded affirmatively and Makki slumped to the floor of the gym, back against the wall, and patted the space to his left. Suga reluctantly joined him and hugged his knees to his chest. For a while they just sat there, Suga playing absentmindedly with a loose string coming off of his knee pad, Makki a reassuring presence by his side. </p><p> </p><p>“You were mostly right,” Suga said finally, resting his chin on his folded shoulders, “but not entirely.” </p><p> </p><p>Makki hummed, “I’d be more concerned if I got it all correct.” </p><p> </p><p>Suga chuckled lightly to himself, “Aah~, it’s so messed up I don’t even know where to start.” </p><p> </p><p>“The beginning, maybe?” </p><p> </p><p><em> ‘We’ll be up all night if that were the case,’ </em> he thought to himself bitterly and said only two words, “Kayama Otosaka.” </p><p> </p><p>Makki mulled the name over before asking, “First crush?” </p><p> </p><p>Suga nodded, “Middle blocker from my middle school team. We were pretty close, even aside from volleyball. He was kind, dependable, a social-butterfly. Easily likable, popular among the girls for his looks and guys for his outgoing personality. No wonder I fell for him, really.” </p><p> </p><p>“Did you confess to him?” </p><p> </p><p>“At first I wasn’t going to. But as I said, we were close, so once I realized my feelings for him weren’t of the friendship kind it was hard. Not to read too much into things, I mean.” </p><p> </p><p>He still remembered the small touches. How their hands would brush from time to time, how Kayo would lean on his shoulder and say nothing, soaking Suga’s presence. Suga felt giddy whenever Kayo showed him his more quiet, vulnerable side. <em> ‘He acted different around his other friends than when he was with me. I thought it meant something more.’ </em> </p><p> </p><p>“It was the day of our senpai’s graduation, the last day of second year. Everyone got a little emotional and I guess, I kinda went with the flow?” </p><p> </p><p><em> He dragged Kayo away to the back of the practice building, where he knew nobody would be at that time. </em> </p><p> </p><p><em> “What are we doing here Suga?” Kayo asked, visibly confused, his breath coming out in little puffs from how fast they were going. But Suga didn’t answer until they rounded the corner and only then did he let go of his hand in favor of standing a few paces in front of him. </em> </p><p> </p><p><em> Early afternoon sunlight glistened on Kayo’s chocolate brown hair, giving it an almost golden hue in a few places. Suga let himself appreciate the view before gathering the courage to say, </em> </p><p> </p><p><em> “I like you, Kayo.” </em> </p><p> </p><p>“I was so sure he would like me back. But as soon as I confessed I,” Suga paused to take a few deep breaths, willing the tears he knew were coming away. “He looked so shocked. But he didn’t reject me right away and just said to give him some time.” </p><p> </p><p><em> “Can I, uh, I mean, can I get back to you on that? I need a little more time to think.” </em> </p><p> </p><p>“I guess he needed to figure out how to turn me down gently? Or maybe he just couldn’t process what was happening. Either way we went home and didn’t see each other much over break. And when I came back for my third year,” he closed his eyes and leaned his head on the wall, fingers thrumming a nonsensical rhythm on his knees, “the whole school knew about me being gay.” </p><p> </p><p>He could vividly recall the hushed conversations that died down whenever he went passed in the hallways, the gazes filled with contempt drilling into his back and the hurtful words scribbled with chalk all over his desk every morning. </p><p> </p><p>“So what you’re saying is,” Makki’s harsh tone snapped him into attention, “that this Kayama guy basically ratted on you to <em> the entire fucking school </em>?!” </p><p> </p><p>“Not personally.” Makki’s expression twisted into a confused one, so Suga hurried to explain, “Part of the reason I figured it would be fine to confess, was because Kayo wasn’t the type of guy to babble other people’s secrets to any random person.” </p><p> </p><p>“So then wh-” </p><p> </p><p>“He told his other friend,” Suga interrupted him. “Maru, the wing spiker on our team. Kayo probably wanted advice on what to do with me but um, he wasn’t as forgiving.” </p><p> </p><p>They fell into an awkward silence, Makki processing Suga’s words while he wallowed in self-pity, considering his next words. </p><p> </p><p>“Your team wasn’t fine with the revelation?” Makki finally asked, though it sounded more like a statement than an actual question. </p><p> </p><p>“They sure weren’t,” Suga replied anyway. “And yeah, they did kinda kick me out, but not right away. It took some time for them to lose all hesitance and act out properly. I think part of it was because Kayo tried to keep them in check, at first.” </p><p> </p><p><em> He came to the club room after practice to find the contents of his bag strewn all over the floor. His notebooks lay crumpled, as if someone stepped on them multiple times, his clothes thrown haphazardly in the middle. </em> </p><p> </p><p><em> “What the fuck are you guys doing?!” he shouted, only to be met with bouts of snickering. </em> </p><p> </p><p><em> “Just checking if you have stolen something from any of us,” said Maru offhandedly, browsing through his phone. How he even knew how to unlock it, Suga had no clue. “Gotta be on the safe side, right?” </em> </p><p> </p><p><em> “Give it back!” Suga tried to snatch his phone from Ishimaru’s hand, but he was faster. He threw it to the second year across the room, who then threw it to someone else and so on. </em> </p><p> </p><p><em> “Alright, cut it out guys, you’re acting like a bunch of five-year-olds,” Kayo’s steady voice cut into the team’s laughter. </em> </p><p> </p><p><em> “Aww come on, captain, don’t be like that,” someone shouted from the back of the room. “Or are you a disgusting homo as well?” </em> </p><p> </p><p>“He defended me a few times, but one day he just suddenly stopped.” </p><p> </p><p><em> “Huh? No way, I’m not a fucking pervert! Hurry up already, the practice’s over!” </em> </p><p> </p><p>“They wouldn’t dress in front of me, either stopping me from coming into the clubroom until they finished or not letting me in at all. Kayo didn’t want to have the team against him – he was still their captain and was adamant on keeping the position, so he started to distance me from them.” </p><p> </p><p>Makki circled his arm around Suga’s neck, pulling him until his head rested on his shoulder. Suga sucked in a shaky breath, leeching off his warmth and emotional support. He felt his eyes sting and realized he was crying – probably had been for a while. </p><p> </p><p>“The first thing to go was my starting position. That first year was good, but lacked enough game experience and wasn’t in sync with the rest of the team. The team insisted though and Kayo eventually gave in.” </p><p> </p><p><em> “I’m really sorry about this Sugawara,” when had Kayo stopped calling him ‘Suga’ like he always did? “but you know how it is. He is a good player and we gotta do what’s best for the team. You don’t mind, do you?” </em> </p><p> </p><p>“The next was my position as vice captain.” </p><p> </p><p><em> “I’ve been thinking about it and I think Maru would make a better vice captain than you. After all, the position would be better off with someone who the team actually trusts, don’t you think?” </em> </p><p> </p><p>“It hurt,” Suga was full-on sobbing, his voice cracking, “it hurt so fucking much Makki.” </p><p> </p><p>He finally gave in to the tremors wracking his body, Makki nuzzling his hair with his cheek and rubbing small, reassuring circles on his shoulder the whole time. He remained a strong presence by Suga’s side until his shivers subsided, not saying anything while Suga collected himself enough to go back to reality from his memory-induced subspace. </p><p> </p><p>“The way I see it,” Makki murmured eventually, “is that you keep beating yourself over your team being a bunch of dicks to you. Which you shouldn’t be doing, because it’s clearly their fault that they decided to be narrow-minded assholes, not yours.” </p><p> </p><p>“I know,” Suga whimpered weakly. “I know, but-” </p><p> </p><p>“It’s hard to get rid of self-deprecating thoughts, when you hear them being repeated all around you over and over again,” Makki finished with a knowing look, making Suga tilt his head back in mild surprise. </p><p> </p><p>Makki smirked slightly, “I didn’t have it nearly as bad as you did. I mean, I never told anyone, but people just kinda assumed these kinds of things about me.” </p><p> </p><p>“What do you mean?” Suga asked incredulously, to which Makki just snorted. </p><p> </p><p>“Um, hello?” he waved his hand around himself, “I’m tall, lanky <em> and </em> dye my hair pink. Clearly, I’m the Superior Gay in this relationship. I’m honestly surprised <em> you </em> weren’t the first to call on <em> my </em> bullshit.” </p><p> </p><p>Suga didn’t have much strength to try and subside his giggles, so he burst out into uncontrolled laughter, tearing up from the sheer force of it. </p><p> </p><p>“Not that we have any relationship,” Makki added, grinning himself, “You’re more like my cute gay younger brother from another mother.” </p><p> </p><p>“Aren’t I older than you though?” Suga asked, still giggling profusely. </p><p> </p><p>“Tis but an insignificance,” Makki waved it off dismissively with a straight face. He couldn’t keep it up though and soon they were both a giggling mess on the gym floor. </p><p> </p><p>Catching his breath, Suga found himself lying prone with his head in Makki’s lap. He turned on his back to look up at the other boy, who somehow managed to remain sitting upright, having slid to the floor just the slightest bit. </p><p> </p><p>“Anyway, since people assumed I was gay, there weren’t many who gave me a hard time about it,” Makki said after a while, “but that still didn’t mean I was fine with them giving me any labels they so pleased. It hurt, being stared at and judged by people I didn’t personally know. So I thought <em> ‘Fuck it. If everyone’s gonna talk shit about me regardless, might as well give them the reason.’ </em> I dyed my hair fucking <em> pink </em> and tried to seem perfectly fine being ‘that one gay dude’ like that was all what’s worth knowing about me.” </p><p> </p><p>Suga smirked, “So long as you know it’s actually pink...” </p><p> </p><p>“Oh, fuck off!” Makki smacked him heartily on his thigh, grinning, “I’ll let you have it, but just this once!” </p><p> </p><p>“Mhm,” Suga rolled his eyes and pouted. “Although that’s the second time you admitted it today,” he added, earning himself another playful slap and amused smile. </p><p> </p><p>“You’re a great friend, you know that?” Suga said after a minute, feeling the need to do something about Makki’s previous statement, “Definitely worth knowing. And I’m glad I have you as my friend.” </p><p> </p><p>Makki smiled fondly at him, “Thanks, Suga. I really appreciate that.” He looked away, playing with Suga’s hair absentmindedly, seemingly in thought, before adding, “But you’re a wonderful guy as well and I’m sure as hell not letting yo-” </p><p> </p><p>“For fuck’s sake, I told you to go the fuck home Shittykawa!” The door to the gym busted open and in came a pissed Iwaizumi, his frown so deep it made the veins on his forehead pop out. He stormed in only to stop dead in his tracks with a ‘deer in headlights’ expression plastered on his face upon noticing Suga and Makki there. </p><p> </p><p>Suga blinked and tilted his head in confusion and that short while was all it took for Iwaizumi’s face to turn beet red, which looked particularly funny from Suga’s upside-down position. </p><p> </p><p>“I, uh, I saw th- the lights on and uh,” Iwaizumi stuttered, visibly flustered and waved his arms around as if to convey something, “I, uh, thought it was Oikawa. Was he...? I mean, have you guys seen him?” </p><p> </p><p>“Nope,” Makki said with a shit-eating grin, basking in Iwaizumi’s discomfort. “Not sure where the Trash King is, but definitely not here.” </p><p> </p><p>“Oh. Cool that’s... Wait no, where the fuck <em> is </em> he then?!” he ruffled his spiky hair angrily. </p><p> </p><p>“Um, I don’t know, but we’ve been here since the practice ended,” Suga chimed in, taking pity on the raven-haired teen, “and I don’t think I’ve seen Oikawa-kun here at all. Right, Makki?” </p><p> </p><p>Makki nodded solemnly, “Pretty sure we’re the last ones up here this late. Why’d you even think he would be here at this hour?” </p><p> </p><p>Iwaizumi shrugged, “He wasn’t home and I’ve found this jerk practicing alone at even more ungodly hours before. And <em> after </em> I told him not to overwork himself too.” </p><p> </p><p>Suga snickered, “Well then, that explains it. I don’t think we can help you with that, though. Sorry, Iwaizumi-kun.” </p><p> </p><p>“Uh, right. Then I,” for some reason Iwaizumi’s face turned red again, puzzling Suga, “I’ll leave you guys to... Urgh, I mean I’ll leave. Now. Sorry for interrupting!”  </p><p> </p><p>He bolted out of the gym, disappearing as quickly as he came there, closing the door with a loud metallic thud. Makki shook his head disbelievingly and sighed. </p><p> </p><p>“And that,” he said with a pointed look at Suga’s head still perched on his lap, his own fingers tangled in silvery locks, “is how people start making wrong assumptions.” </p><p> </p><p>They were still laughing uncontrollably when the staff came in and told them politely to <em> get the fuck out already. </em> </p><p> </p><p>***  </p><p> </p><p>Next day’s practice was hilarious to say the least. </p><p> </p><p>Iwaizumi blushed whenever Suga made eye-contact with him, proving that <em> ‘yep he seriously thinks Makki and I are a couple’. </em> Which normally would’ve made Suga nervous, however, he got the feeling that the spiky-haired teen wasn’t embarrassed by his teammates dating but rather with himself for ruining their ‘private moment’. </p><p> </p><p>Which was another misassumption Makki didn’t deem necessary to clear. At all. If anything, it spurred him on to try and make the other boy as uncomfortable as possible.  </p><p> </p><p>And if Suga secretly enjoyed this as well then nobody would know. </p><p> </p><p>Makki took Suga’s lack of protest as approval and practically <em>attached himself</em> at Suga’s hip, leaning in unnecessarily close whenever he wanted to say something and initiating a plethora of ‘accidental’ little touches, all the while making sure someone was watching. Apparently, yesterday’s emotional rollercoaster of confessions made him lose all the shame, which resulted in the increase in the number of both the pet names he called Suga and blatant flirting. </p><p> </p><p>Which Suga was eager to reciprocate, the overexaggerated theatrics of it all playing well into his more mischievous side. </p><p> </p><p>“Suga-sama, we have an issue of utmost importance,” Makki said with an all-too-serious expression, Suga’s cue to play along with whatever bullshit his pink-haired friend was up to. </p><p> </p><p>He turned around and mimicking Makki’s expression placed his hand upon his left shoulder, “What is the matter, Makki-dono?” </p><p> </p><p>Makki’s voice suddenly dropped down to a stage-whisper, “Behind me, next to the entrance to the bleachers, standing next to Yamada and some upperclassmen. Don’t make it look too obvious.” </p><p> </p><p>Suga complied a little confused. He tilted his head to the side, as if considering something, in reality peeking behind Makki’s shoulder. Suga quickly located the boy his pink-haired friend probably meant – he was tall, an inch or two taller than Makki (<em> ‘what the fuck had they eaten to grow that tall?!’ </em> ), with dark unruly curls, plump lips and <em> oh </em>... </p><p> </p><p>“These are some <em> very thick </em>eyebrows,” he said, catching on to what his friend wanted to show him. </p><p> </p><p>“Majestic,” Makki replied, his expression almost <em> dreamy </em>, making Suga shake his head in mild disbelief. </p><p> </p><p>“Did you seriously want me to check out the guy you’re lusting after or do you have some other reason?” Suga asked, watching Eyebrows-kun in his peripheral vision. </p><p> </p><p>“What? No! I’m not <em> lusting </em> after anyone, Suga, thank you very much,” Makki scoffed, to which Suga rolled his eyes, “I’m serious! Think about the meme potential those eyebrows have! All of my innuendos would pale in comparison!” </p><p> </p><p>Suga hummed non-committedly, “Are you going somewhere with this or...?” </p><p> </p><p>Makki placed his hands on both of Suga’s shoulders, leaning in until their foreheads were almost touching and stared right into Suga’s eyes with a solemn expression. </p><p> </p><p>“Let’s make it a three-way, Suga.” </p><p> </p><p>Suga blinked in bewilderment once before wringing himself out of Makki’s hold and practically <em> howling </em> with laughter. Makki only smirked at him, clearly amused by his over-the-top reaction.  </p><p> </p><p>“Okay, hahaha, hold up!” Suga tried to reign some control back over himself, to no avail. “What the fuck Makki?! If you want to befriend the guy, ask him out or whatever, just do it! And,” he fixed Makki with his most murderous glare, “we are <em> so </em> not calling it <em> that </em>.” </p><p> </p><p>“Calling it <em> what </em> ?” Makki asked with the most fake innocent expression on the planet, making Suga huff in annoyance and mutter under his breath, “Fucking pervert,” which of course the taller boy heard <em> just fine </em> and grinned even wider. </p><p> </p><p>Suga couldn’t feel even remotely apologetic about chopping him in the ribs. </p><p> </p><p>“It’s only natural that I ask my favorite friend if I want to bring a third person to our party,” Makki grumbled, massaging his side with a slight pout. </p><p> </p><p>Suga slapped him good-naturedly on the back, making him stumble a little, “Thank you for your consideration. Now go get your guy.” </p><p> </p><p>“Nuh-uh, if we’re doing this, you’re coming with me,” Makki hooked an arm around Suga’s waist and proceeded to drag him in the direction of the eyebrows guy. Suga just sighed in defeat, resigning himself to his fate. </p><p> </p><p>“Hello there,” Makki flashed him a shit-eating grin, making the guy raise one eyebrow and <em> ‘oh, I can totally see that potential now’. </em> </p><p> </p><p>“You’re the guy who beat the suicides record after pissing Mizoguchi off on the first day,” Eyebrows-kun drawled in a bored tone, despite his eyebrows twitching slightly in amusement. </p><p> </p><p><em> ‘Are all his expressions only limited to eyebrows?’ </em> Suga thought to himself, glancing at Makki from the corner of his eye. </p><p> </p><p>“And you have been entirely too quiet these few days. You’re doing it wrong. Clearly you need some help, <em> so </em>...” Makki tugged Suga even closer to himself, “me and my partner here are willing to sacrifice our alone-time...” </p><p> </p><p>“Oh my god, Makki!” Suga whined loudly. </p><p> </p><p>“As I was saying,” Makki continued undeterred, “We are willing to help you grow as a fellow troublemaker...” </p><p> </p><p>“I am not a tro-!” Suga protested. </p><p> </p><p>“... and invite you to a wonderful three-way full-homo totally-not-just-friendship!” Makki concluded, and but for his ears, his smile would have surely reached the back of his head. </p><p> </p><p>Suga face-palmed, “I am <em> so </em> done right now.” </p><p> </p><p>The eyebrows guy snorted, “Sure, whatever. Sounds fun. Name’s Matsukawa by the way.” </p><p> </p><p>Makki whooped victoriously, “Awesome. Welcome aboard partner. I’m Hanamaki,” he pointed at himself, “Makki for short. And this cutie here,” he turned to Suga, causing him to blush and roll his eyes simultaneously, “is Sugawara, though he prefers to be called Suga.” </p><p> </p><p>“Nice to officially meet you, I guess,” Matsukawa nodded. </p><p> </p><p>Suga beamed at him, “Nice to meet you too, Matsukawa-kun!” </p><p> </p><p>Makki clicked his tongue in irritation, “Now, now,” he patted Suga’s head, “we’ve been here before Suga-sama. No overly polite nonsense, unless it’s for comedic purposes. Now hurry up and think, Matsukawa needs a codename.” </p><p> </p><p>“What?” said teen, asking in mild amusement. </p><p> </p><p>Makki threw his arms back and said in a mock-offended voice, “What do you mean ‘what’? There is no way that one member of our three-way arrangement would <em> not </em>have a sickeningly cute nickname. That goes against our policy!” </p><p> </p><p>“Do we even have a policy?” Suga snorted incredulously. </p><p> </p><p>“It’s part of the universal gay agenda. Now shush,” Makki placed a hand on Suga’s mouth, silencing him effectively. “It’s not the time for that. Chop chop, sweetheart, it’s thinking time.”  </p><p> </p><p>“Is it really ne-?” Matsukawa wanted to ask, but was interrupted by Makki’s sudden yelp, “Ew, gross Suga-chan!”  </p><p> </p><p>Suga stuck his tongue out playfully, relishing his friend’s indignant expression as we wiped his palm furiously on his shorts. Matsukawa seemingly joined him in his amusement, judging by his wrinkling eyebrows, which evoke Suga’s mischievous side, <em> ‘Oh no, you’re not getting away either.’ </em> </p><p> </p><p>“Mattsun,” he said with an innocent little smirk, said teen twitching by his side and turning his face slowly towards Suga, his expression of pure horror. </p><p> </p><p>“No-” he tried to argue, but Makki butted in excitedly, “Yes! That’s it, it’s final!” </p><p> </p><p>Mattsun looked like he wanted to struggle some more, mouth opening and closing a few times. Makki shot him his best puppy-eyed look though and after a bit of stare-down Mattsun sighed in defeat, “Eh, fine, whatever you guys want.” </p><p> </p><p>Makki whooped in triumph, coming up to Suga for a high five, “We did it! We got the power of eyebrows on our side!” </p><p> </p><p>Mattsun spluttered, “Is that seriously the only reason you talked me into this?” </p><p> </p><p>Suga broke into giggles while Makki replied with a shit-eating grin, “Why of course, that eyebrows of yours are <em> clearly </em> your greatest feature.” </p><p> </p><p><em> ‘Was that a blush just now?’ </em> Suga thought, watching their newest addition wallow in self-pity, “That’s it, I want ou-” </p><p> </p><p>“Sugawara! Hanamaki! Matsukawa!” the trio flinched upon hearing coach Mizoguchi yell. “Don’t just stand there, the break is over! If you have the energy to fool around then clearly, you’re not trying hard enough! Thirty suicides!” </p><p> </p><p>Suga whined loudly, while Mattsun face-palmed and mumbled, “I can’t believe it.” </p><p> </p><p>Makki whacked him on the back, grinning like an absolute loon, “See? Even Mizoguchi already acknowledged you as a part of our suicide squad. Face it, you are stuck with us now.” </p><p> </p><p>“No slacking!” they all scrambled to do their laps, fearing any additional ones. </p><p> </p><p>*** </p><p> </p><p>“So,” Suga started, dumping his bento box forcefully on the table, “we need to do something about this.” </p><p> </p><p>The three of them sat at the small round table at the back of the cafeteria, right next to the window overlooking a little square, which has become ‘their table’ over the last few days. Mattsun grumbled something incoherent, not pausing in munching on his yakisoba bread. Makki just stared at the curly-haired teen, his bento entirely forgotten, looking all dreamy (which kind of became his default expression around the curly-haired teen) and not paying attention to Suga whatsoever. </p><p> </p><p>“Ouch!” the pink-haired teen jumped in his seat, having just been kicked under the table. “What was that for?!” </p><p> </p><p>“I’m being serious right now!” Suga huffed, stabbing an eggroll furiously with his chopsticks, “The practice match is on Monday. We have only two days to prepare some kind of strategy!” </p><p> </p><p>At the end of today’s morning practice, coach Irihata announced that all the newcomers will have a chance of showing their skills in a practice match on Monday. Suga couldn’t have asked for any better opportunity – if he wants to prove himself to be as worthy of making the first string as Oikawa Tooru, he has to do it now. Who knows, when will the next time come? </p><p> </p><p>“I get it, I get it,” Makki grumbled, finally paying both Suga and his lunch attention. “You want to prove you’re better than the Trash King, alright. But how do you know we'll even get placed in the same team?” </p><p> </p><p>“He has a point,” Mattsun shrugged. “I doubt the coaches plan to put us all together, seeing as we’re kind of a disaster.” </p><p> </p><p>Suga snorted, “Oh, please. If anything, they’ll for sure place us together because of that.” Seeing two almost identical confused expressions he added, “I mean, the coaches have seen us three, or at least me and Makki, practicing together on multiple occasions. I’m sure they’d like to see how well we can play during a real match.” </p><p> </p><p>“Maybe,” Mattsun mused, munching his bread thoughtfully, “but me and you haven’t practiced together that much. I’m sure I won’t be that good in hitting all your tosses, no offense.” </p><p> </p><p>Suga swallowed some rice before slamming his chopsticks down, “That’s exactly what I’m talking about! We need to work on our timing, or we won’t be able to use quicks at all! And you,” he pointed angrily at Makki, “need to work on your receives. Frankly speaking, they’re <em> abysmal </em>.” </p><p> </p><p>Makki choked on his food, which made him abandon his dreamy expression in favor of hacking his lungs up. It took him a minute to suppress his coughing fit, before replying indignantly, “<em> Excuse me? </em>My receives are fine, thank you very much. Not everyone can be a god of receives like you, Sugawara-sama.” </p><p> </p><p>“Oh, you’re that good?” Mattsun perked up, visibly interested. </p><p> </p><p>Suga shrugged, but before he even managed to open his mouth to say <em> ‘No, he’s exaggerating.’ </em> Makki already exclaimed, “Oh yeah, you should see him do a full-on receive rally, he’s <em> insanely </em> good.” </p><p> </p><p>“It’s not that... I’m not <em> that </em> good,” Suga blushed profusely, which only spurred Makki on. </p><p> </p><p>“Don’t listen to him,” he leaned closer to Mattsun and continued in a stage whisper, “Suga-sama is but an angel hiding in this humble, mortal body. But anyway, ” he let on in a normal tone, after Suga shot him an exasperated glare, “why should I be the only one who’s getting called out for his <em> ‘abysmal’ </em> receiving? Our darling Mattsun does a much poorer job than me.” </p><p> </p><p>“Oi-” </p><p> </p><p>“True,” Suga agreed, “but he’s a middle blocker, so he won’t be in the back row long enough to mess up some receives. Meanwhile, you, my lovely Makki-dono, will be there the entire time and I’m not risking our chances of winning because you were too lazy to do some extra training.” </p><p> </p><p><em> ‘Was I too harsh?’ </em> Suga grew a little worried watching his friend’s reaction, but both the other boys were snickering to themselves, not minding his remarks in the slightest. </p><p> </p><p>“Alright then,” Makki said, stretching like a cat in his seat. “Tomorrow is Sunday, so we have a day off practice. We can all meet up at the rec center and then you and Mattsun can work on your timing, and I’ll see if I can get some of the regulars to help me with receiving. There, does that sound fine to you sweetheart?” </p><p> </p><p>“Yup,” Suga nodded, “though let’s add some tactical training as well. We’ll come up with some signs, see what works for us best and what doesn’t. We gotta crush this match, you hear me?” </p><p> </p><p>“Fine by me,” Mattsun agreed. “You’re not the only one who wants to make it to the first string, you know? Don’t worry so much, it will be fine.” </p><p> </p><p><em> ‘Easy for you to say,’ </em> Suga thought to himself bitterly. <em> ‘You don’t have a wonder child prodigy to beat.’ </em> </p><p> </p><p>Makki smiled widely, “We’ve got this.” </p><p> </p><p><em> ‘I hope you’re right, Makki.’ </em> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Poor Iwa-chan - I love him so much but I just had to make him all flustered. I guess I'm like Makki in that regard :P Also yeah, OCs - who doesn't like them? (me, I don't like them, so I made a bunch of them for plot purposes)</p><p>Again, shoutout to my beta <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/alive_polish_fan">alive_polish_fan</a> who had so much fun checking this chapter despite "her mind being blegh" and the fact that I made it so damn long xD<br/>She literally said, and I quote it on her demand: "Well, this has been fun to read. WHY DO THEY HAVE SO MANY NAMES I’M LOST” </p><p>Love ya babe, prepare for even more struggle - we have not yet reached the peak of me randomly throwing names and OCs &lt;3 (also volleyball, that would be problematic) I fully expect you to rage quit in a week xDDD</p><p>Again, if you want to ask questions, discuss the fic, Haikyuu in general or just chat like a normal human being (socialising is important peoples, as much as I loath to admit it  ¯\_(ツ)_/¯) feel free to DM me on my tumblr <a href="https://master-of-nyom.tumblr.com/">MasterOfNyom</a> Also, keep in mind that my tumblr followers get a little sneaky peak day prior to the chapter publication, so there's that.</p><p>Anyway, thanks for reading the new chapter and I'll see you in a week!</p><p>Next time: fangirls are pack creatures, Suga is distracting but Oikawa miraculously doesn't lose his focus.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. He's a Liar</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>In which practice match begins, Mr.Refreshing is a devious little beast and Oikawa is confused.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Oikawa Tooru found himself in a life-threatening situation. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He crept in the shadows of the main school building, checking his surroundings in search of a possible way out. He dumped his bag at his feet, neck craning to get a better look at the gym. There, blocking the entrance to the volleyball club’s locker room stood a horde of blood-thirsty, skirt-clad beasts known as </span>
  <em>
    <span>girls</span>
  </em>
  <span>.  </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Now, don’t get him wrong, Tooru didn’t mind their attention most times, usually basking in it until his best friend Iwa-chan dragged him away forcefully, shouting profanities as they went (which might or might not have been Tooru’s goal from the get-go, rousing Iwa-chan's temper being one of his many hobbies). Today however, he didn’t want to deal with his little Fanclub for two reasons. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>One, he had a practice match to attend, which was many times more important. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And two, he didn’t believe they would be easily persuaded today, precisely because of reason number one. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He made sure not to mention today’s match to any of his admirers, but they still managed to find out on their own and come here swarming like that. Which was a possibility, Tooru should have considered sooner, but still failed to do so, his mind focusing on volleyball and volleyball only. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>‘Tch,’</span>
  </em>
  <span> he thought watching the girls reluctantly let a pink-haired first-year and two others pass, </span>
  <em>
    <span>‘I’m sure they’ll pounce on me the second I come close to them.’</span>
  </em>
  
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What are you lurking here like a creep for Shittykawa?” Iwa-chan's unmistakable drawl startled Tooru, making him trip over his bag and fall to the ground with an undignified yelp. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Ouch!” his head must have hit some rock, just his luck. “Don’t scare me like that Iwa-chan!” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Iwaizumi grumbled something incoherent, not looking at Tooru but rather at the little war-zone ahead, “Hiding from the flock of vultures, I see.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“How rude, Iwa-chan,” Tooru huffed, crossing his arms over his chest, trying to look both wistful and intimidating. Which he clearly failed, as he was still half-sprawled on the ground, “My sweet fans are not vultures, they’re a </span>
  <em>
    <span>delight.</span>
  </em>
  <span> Really, it’s no wonder you can’t get a girlfriend when you’re being such a heartless brute.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hah?! Fuck off Assikawa, if I wanted to, I could get a girlfriend no problem,” Iwaizumi grabbed his shirt and hauled him to his feet forcefully. “Although, watching those pipsqueaks wail all the time makes me reconsider the appeal.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“How can you even say tha-?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Where’s Oikawa-san?” wailed one said pipsqueak.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I wanted to wish him good luck before the match!” added another.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“So what? I even made him a good-luck charm, all by myself!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>One after another more cries joined the endless squeak of bids, disappointed sighes and ‘Oikawa-san’, creating a buzzing cloud of white noise, becoming less discernible every passing second. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Not having any remark for this huh?” Iwaizumi snorted victoriously, to which Tooru sighed and massaged his temples, feeling an incoming headache, “Urgh, I </span>
  <em>
    <span>so</span>
  </em>
  <span> don’t wanna deal with this right now!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It seems you might not have to,” seeing Tooru’s puzzled expression, Iwa-chan pointed at the crowd of girls, “Look.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Tooru scanned the little horde for any difference, finding it in a form of a silver-haired boy wearing </span>
  <span>their volleyball club’s turquoise shirt and white gym shorts. </span>
  <em>
    <span>‘Oh, he’s that guy with a locker next to mine,’</span>
  </em>
  <span> Tooru remembered, </span>
  <em>
    <span>‘What was his name again?’</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He vaguely remembered watching this guy enter a few minutes ago, with a pink-headed spiker and another taller guy. He also observed him during practice once or twice (as a fellow setter of course) and came to a few conclusions, most of which went along the lines of  </span>
  <em>
    <span>‘seriously, how can such a timid, unassuming guy be friends with that pink-haired menace?’</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Then again, it was probably the pot calling the kettle black, seeing as Tooru was friends with Iwa-chan and it still kinda worked, even though they had the ‘red cape on a bull’ effect on each other most of the time.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Needless to say, Tooru was curious how the situation at hand would play out.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Excuse me,” started their little savior, smiling politely. He didn’t have to raise his voice at all, the girls magically falling silent the moment he opened his mouth. </span>
  <em>
    <span>‘What is he, an angel?’</span>
  </em>
  <span> Tooru thought to himself, full of disbelief, while the silver-haired teen continued, “I understand you want to wait here for Oikawa-kun, but you’re disturbing the other club mem-”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hah?! What are you trying to say?! It’s not like we can’t be here or anything!” one girl exclaimed, possibly a second-year, the rest nodding along like those little dolls on springs.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No, no, you misunderstood me. I’m not saying you should leave,” </span>
  <em>
    <span>‘Hah?! Isn’t that the goal? What is he even doing?!’</span>
  </em>
  <span> “I was just trying to suggest you wait for Oikawa-kun on the bleachers. I’ll make sure to tell him to come up there when I see him. What’s more, like this you could actually cheer him on during the entire match! Wouldn’t that be better?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>‘Okay, there’s no way they’ll fall for that…’</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Alright,” that second-year girl agreed after having a mental consultation with other little beasts, “Where should we go?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The guy beamed at them and </span>
  <em>
    <span>holy shit</span>
  </em>
  <span> was it </span>
  <em>
    <span>blinding</span>
  </em>
  <span>, the girls unable to decide whether to keep gawking or turn away from the sheer brightness of his smile, “Oh, it’s just round that corner, surely you won’t miss it.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I can’t fucking believe it,” Tooru mumbled, watching the girls not only </span>
  <em>
    <span>leave</span>
  </em>
  <span>, but leave in a considerably </span>
  <em>
    <span>better mood.</span>
  </em>
  <span> He didn’t have time to dwell on this for too long though, the silver-haired setter waving them over and Iwaizumi grabbing his arm, dragging him hurriedly to the locker room, “Ow! Don’t grab me so hard, Iwa-chan!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Iwaizumi gave the guy a nod, who in turn closed the door the second he and Tooru went in. He finally released him from the death grip on his arm too, telling him to change quickly.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The shorter teen sighed deeply, resting his head on the closed door. “You owe me one,” he mumbled, to which Iwa-chan laughed softly, “Sure. Can’t believe that worked though.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Tooru dropped his bag in sudden realization. “Wait a minute,” he chanced a look at the other setter, but his expression held only a hint of curiosity and nothing else, “aren’t the bleachers closed for today?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>This innocent curiosity twisted into a slight smirk, which in contrast with his round, angelic face created an almost </span>
  <em>
    <span>devilish</span>
  </em>
  <span> effect, “Oh sure, they didn’t know it though. Anyway, see you guys later,” he left, like nothing happened at all, leaving Tooru baffled.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>‘What the actual fuck?’</span>
  </em>
  <span> he turned around abruptly and checked the nameplate on the locker to his left.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Sugawara Koushi was becoming a far greater mystery than he initially expected.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>***</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Although the match was more of a try-out for the first-years, there were a few upperclassmen participating. They were mostly there to provide additional members in case there weren’t enough first-years to form proper teams, but some of them chose this opportunity to show off as well and impress the coaches enough to make it to the first string. In the end, two full teams were formed, with about 5 to 7 bench players in each as well.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He and Iwaizumi were unsurprisingly in one team, wearing green vests with numbers 3 and 4 respectively. Sugawara and his two friends were in the red team, though that wasn’t a surprise to Tooru either.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>What was a surprise, was that Sugawara was standing to the side with other bench players, while the pink-haired number 6 and that tall middle blocker with number 11 were in the starting line-up.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>‘I thought for sure the coaches would want to see them play together,’</span>
  </em>
  <span> Tooru thought, observing the second-year setter who was placed instead of Sugawara. </span>
  <em>
    <span>‘Then again, they might also want to assess their skills independently.’</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Anyone we should keep an eye on?” Iwaizumi’s rumbling voice resounded to his right. All the starting players formed a loose circle, waiting only for Tooru to join them.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Out of the first-years, definitely our trouble trio, though they’ve been reduced to a duo for now,” in his peripheral vision Tooru could see the other team having their own small briefing. He noted that Tweedledee and Tweedledum were paying attention only half-heartedly, engrossed in their own little conversation. “They have no doubt planned something in advance. As for the upperclassmen, I can’t say for sure.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“They have Kanzaki as libero, so unless he trained his ass off, their back row defense won’t be as good,” said one of their middle blockers, a third-year whose name Tooru couldn’t remember for the love of god, “Motoya, their middle blocker, is decent enough to pose a threat. There’s Irine, his spikes are pretty strong, but his receives suck.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“And that setter?” Tooru asked, though he didn’t expect much from that scrawny second-year, </span>
  <em>
    <span>‘seriously, why put him in first and </span>
  </em>
  <span>not</span>
  <em>
    <span> Sugawara?’</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Niijino, pretty average.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Alrighty then~” he clapped his hands, startling the first-year spiker standing next to him, Yuda or something, “Let’s all do our best and crush them while we’re at it, m’kay?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>As soon as he finished saying that, Coach Mizoguchi whistled sharply and shouted, “Alright everybody, scramble, we do not have all day! Green team will be serving first.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>‘So they opted for the tallest block against Iwa-chan,’</span>
  </em>
  <span> Tooru thought idly, spinning the ball in his hands. Sure enough, the tallest players on the red team, one of them being that guy from trouble trio with the eyebrows, were up front. The pink-haired menace, to his amazement, was in the back row, preparing to receive. </span>
  <em>
    <span>‘Oh well, nothing we can’t fight.’</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He grinned to himself and threw the ball up, instantly knowing it would be a good one, </span>
  <em>
    <span>‘Let’s see if you last long enough to try and block him.’</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>***</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The first time Tooru noticed Sugawara Koushi was of course on the first day of official practice.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He couldn’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>not</span>
  </em>
  <span> have noticed him, as his locker was right next to Tooru’s and sharing so little space was bound to give him an opportunity to familiarize himself with the other setter. Almost everyone there at the time glanced at Tooru briefly - his reputation really did go ahead of him. That’s why, what felt weird to him wasn’t everyone looking at him, but this one person who seemingly tried to </span>
  <em>
    <span>avoid</span>
  </em>
  <span> looking at him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>After making sure his locker room neighbor didn’t see, he threw a quick glance himself, noting a few things. From his distant expression and knuckles whitening from clenching his fists too tightly, Tooru assumed the shorter setter held some kind of grudge against him. He wouldn't be the first to do so, so Tooru didn’t mind it much.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>What struck him though, was the other’s silver locks - Tooru had a weird feeling he had seen this guy somewhere before. Which was weird, because </span>
  <em>
    <span>nothing</span>
  </em>
  <span> about his roundish face, wide hazel eyes and that single birthmark under his left eye screamed familiar to Tooru. He just had an inkling he had seen this silvery mop somewhere before.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He had absolutely no idea where.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>His little neighbor’s school didn’t ring a bell either, though he did consult Iwa-chan about that one. Tooru would never forget the faces of his past opponents, but names? He had to reluctantly accept he was pants at remembering them, which usually resulted in an awful number of obnoxious nicknames, because these were just so much </span>
  <em>
    <span>easier</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Hearing his childhood friend’s “Nah, never heard of it” made Tooru even more confused.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The one thing Tooru took pride in was his ability to solve any mystery, those regarding people being his absolute favorites. Watching his opponents’ reactions, cracking up their strategies alongside their personalities fascinated him, was one of the reasons he loved playing volleyball so much.</span>
  <span></span>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <span>Needless to say, not being able to figure out this guy frustrated Tooru to no end.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Throughout the first week many first-years came and went, as did that awful sense of familiarity he had whenever he looked at Sugawara. One moment he was sure he had figured it out, only to lose this feeling the next second. The amount of time he dedicated to just </span>
  <em>
    <span>staring</span>
  </em>
  <span> at the guy was probably unhealthy and most likely screamed ‘creep’ a mile away, but Tooru didn’t care.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He </span>
  <em>
    <span>was itching</span>
  </em>
  <span> to know.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Sugawara was a dependable setter, his skills solid if a little predictable. The few times Tooru managed to overhear his conversations with other club members, he seemed polite and unassuming, though with that pink-headed menace of a guy he was more playful and laughed a lot, his face positively </span>
  <em>
    <span>glowing</span>
  </em>
  <span>, acting as its own light source.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>‘What is it about this guy?’</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oi,” Iwaizumi bumped his arm, stopping his train of thought abruptly, “they’re changing members.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Halfway into the first set and the red team was crumbling from the inside. Just as their third-year middle blocker said (</span>
  <em>
    <span>‘Kashiwagi, I’m pretty sure that was his name</span>
  </em>
  <span>’), the libero was plain </span>
  <em>
    <span>garbage</span>
  </em>
  <span> at receiving, like the majority of the opposing team, which led to the rapid increase in point difference. </span>
  <span>The larger the gap became, the more nervous their second-year setter became, resulting in numerous missed tosses and wasted opportunities for come-back.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>At this point Tooru was wondering who would get switched out first: that fumbling mess of a setter or the third-year libero. Judging by the overall lack of liberos in Seijoh’s Volleyball Club, he bet it would be the former.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Sure enough, there was Sugawara with his number 5 on a red vest and the upperclassman (</span>
  <em>
    <span>‘Niiyama? Niijima?’</span>
  </em>
  <span>) was leaving the court.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>‘Let’s see what you’ve got, locker room neighbor.’</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The atmosphere in the opposing team took a complete 180 degrees turn the moment Sugawara </span>
  <em>
    <span>skipped</span>
  </em>
  <span> towards them, throwing high-fives and playful punches here and there. Tooru had a sneaking suspicion his smiles were contagious, because one of those beaming expressions of his was all it took for the rest of the team to start grinning like idiots as well.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Alright guys, chins up! We’re just getting started, no need to panic because of the score!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Well isn’t he Mr.Refreshing,” Tooru said, a little devious smirk forming on his lips, “I guess we’re finally getting started.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>With the score reading 12-7 in their favor, the green team was up to serve, </span>
  <em>
    <span>‘So Eyebrows-kun is out of the rotation now’</span>
  </em>
  <span> Tooru noted, as the first-year on his team, Sawa-something served a ball straight in the direction of the red team’s libero. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>‘Now I wonder what will Mr.Refreshing do?’</span>
  </em>
  <span> he was currently in the back row and had a great view of said silver-haired setter as he glided smoothly under the coming pass. </span>
  <em>
    <span>‘His form is nice, but not unreadable.’</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Sure enough the set was directed to that second-year spiker on the right and both the green team’s blockers and Tooru were ready to stop him. With a full swing though, the guy smashed the ball into Kashiwagi-senpai’s outstretched hand and made it bounce off to the side, connecting with the floor with a loud thump.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>12-8</b>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Tch,” Tooru clicked his tongue in irritation, “We’ll get the next one!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The same spiker was serving now, but the green team’s libero (a third-year named Asano, if Tooru remembered correctly) bumped it cleanly towards Tooru, who moved quickly up to the net.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Asa-chan nice receive!” he winced a little at the offended “Hah?!” from the libero, </span>
  <em>
    <span>‘Great, another person who’ll hate me for giving them a nickname.</span>
  </em>
  <span>’ He didn’t dwell on it too long though and set the ball high, a little far from the net, the very specific set that felt so familiar after all these years.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>‘We gotta say a proper hello to our Mr.Refreshing now, don’t we?’ </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Tooru would never get bored with this sight - Iwa-chan looked like he was suspended in the air, his hand outstretched and a grin splitting his face. The sound of the ball smashing into the ground was deafening in its intensity.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The libero didn’t even budge.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>13-8</b>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What was that just now, Oikawa, huh?” Asano came to him; he seemed so pissed Tooru swore he could see steam coming out of his ears, “Is that how you address your senpai?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Alright then, I’m sorry, Asa-chan-senpai,” Tooru smiled innocently, while the libero looked like he wanted to strangle him, but didn’t have the time to do so, unfortunately.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You know, you shouldn’t rile him up like that,” Kashiwagi mumbled as Tooru got close to him - with the current rotation he was up for a block together with the third-year, “He’s gonna make your life hell when you make it to the first string.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Because of the general lack of liberos in Aobajousai Volleyball Club, in order to make the proper teams for this match Asano had to play despite already being a regular. Tooru could tell the coaches were hoping to find some new receiving talent among the first-years. Unfortunately, the only first-year libero to join the club resigned during the first week, when most of the newcomers stopped coming because of practice being ‘too hard’.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Tooru smirked at the usage of ‘when’ instead of ‘if’. It seems even the upperclassmen knew that this match was just a formality, already expecting him to become a regular setter soon, “All the more reason to familiarize ourselves early~”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Tashiro, the green team’s spiker currently serving, sent the ball smoothly towards the back line, right in the middle of two receivers.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>14-8</b>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Nice serve, Shiro-san!” Tooru shouted, amused by the frustrated look on Sugawara’s face, who was closest to the ball. To his surprise, he didn’t stand to the side in order to avoid touching the ball first like most setters did, but was preparing for a receive instead.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>‘Do they have someone who can act as an emergency setter?’</span>
  </em>
  <span> he wondered. He could swear that the previous setter, the scrawny looking guy, wasn’t trying to receive either. So why was Sugawara doing it?</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Tooru’s question got answered soon enough, when Sugawara bumped the ball a little too high towards… “Makki!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>‘Of course, that makes sense,’</span>
  </em>
  <span> Tooru thought idly to himself, </span>
  <em>
    <span>‘they must have prepared for a situation like this beforehand. Now, who is ‘</span>
  </em>
  <span>Makki’</span>
  <em>
    <span> going to toss-’</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The pink-haired spiker strode quickly to the ball and jumped up, body twisting into a motion that was not at all a setting one. In a split second Tooru realized that their pass wasn’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>too high</span>
  </em>
  <span>, it was a </span>
  <em>
    <span>perfect height</span>
  </em>
  <span> for a-</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Direct!” somebody in the back row shouted, but it was useless. With Makki attacking so far from the net, getting the block timing right was nearly impossible, so the spiker smashed it onto the court with little to no resistance.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>14-9</b>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Nice kill, Makki!” Sugawara high-fived his friend, both of them grinning like madmen.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>‘What the fuck’s with this guy?!’</span>
  </em>
  <span> Tooru bit on his lip so hard it almost bled. </span>
  <em>
    <span>‘One moment I can read him like a book and the next he pulls some shit like this, like it’s the easiest thing in the world!’</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Seriously, Tooru felt like he was seeing double, like there were two Sugawaras pretending to be the same person. One of them was Mr.Refreshing, all hundred thousand kilowatt smiles and politeness, predictable plays that were easy to understand and counter. Then there was the Mystery Man, confusing the shit out of Tooru with his devious little smirks and executing almost god-like plays out of nowhere.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The worst thing of it all was that Tooru was hit by this weird sense of familiarity </span>
  <em>
    <span>again</span>
  </em>
  <span>, even though he was sure he had never seen this guy play like that before.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Tooru thought he had Sugawara’s play style worked to a T: his meticulous sets, the way he tried to make every toss comfortable to hit for every spiker. Much like Tooru did, but with a little more uncertainty and less expertise.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Now though, Tooru came to a terrifying realization that he didn’t pay much attention to the guy’s </span>
  <em>
    <span>receives</span>
  </em>
  <span>, which he apparently could use just as well for offense, as they were a valuable defense.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>‘This could be a problem,’ </span>
  </em>
  <span>the pink-haired menace’s serve caught on the net, making it to the floor on the other side out of sheer luck.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>14-10</b>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Don’t mind!” Iwa-chan yelled reassuringly, throwing Tooru out of the loop of </span>
  <em>
    <span>‘what the fuck am I supposed to do now?’</span>
  </em>
  <span> that he put himself in, bless the grumpy idiot for always sensing his uneasiness like a goddamn radar. “We’ll get the next one!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>As if to compensate for the previous weak-ass serve, Makki put much more strength into his next one. Way too much.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Out!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>15-10</b>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Fuck, sorry!” Makki apologized, earning himself a few ‘don’t mind’s and one punch to the side from Sugawara, which was probably meant to be playful as he didn’t lash out at his friend, despite said friend making him almost double over.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“My my, how violent,” Tooru snickered, hoping to catch the silver-haired setter’s attention. </span>
  <em>
    <span>‘How about a little taunt game, Mr.Refreshing? Or is that too much to ask for?’</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Sugawara smiled innocently and replied in just as innocent a tone, as Iwa-chan came up to Tooru’s side by the net, following the rotation, “What can I say? I like my love to be a little forceful.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>‘Okay, there’s some story here I wanna know,’</span>
  </em>
  <span> Tooru mused, surprised by the evident blush coloring his best friend’s cheeks, </span>
  <em>
    <span>‘it seems the game is on though.’</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The red team’s libero didn’t mess up his receive </span>
  <em>
    <span>this time</span>
  </em>
  <span>, allowing Sugawara to do a proper set up. Judging by his form and Tooru’s weird inkling, he grabbed Iwaizumi’s sleeve lightly and dragged him to Suga’s left, where Kashiwagi-senpai was already tracking the movements of another first-year spiker.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>‘Shido? Probably Shido. Shi-chan it is then~,’</span>
  </em>
  <span> sure enough the toss went to him. He wasn’t memorable in the slightest, his skills moderate at best. Though to his credit, he didn’t freak out seeing a three-person block right in front of him, not giving away any hints as to what his attack would be and where he would aim it.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He opted for a feint, understandably. Asano didn’t save it in time.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>15-11</b>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You’re a really simple guy, aren’t you?” Tooru taunted, the lack of negative reaction from the other setter rubbing him up the wrong way. “‘When nothing goes right, go left’, isn’t it? You choose the left wing whenever things don’t go the way you want them to.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It honestly wasn’t a wrong tactic - after all, the left wing is usually composed of the strongest spikers, so the idea of just powering through sounds especially compelling. The only downside is that blockers tend to keep a watchful eye on that side more than anywhere, precisely because of that reason.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Sugawara flashed him that blinding smile again, “I just believe in our spikers.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>‘Seriously, he must fucking practice that smile in front of the mirror,’</span>
  </em>
  <span> Tooru scoffed mentally, making a note of the missing part of trouble trio finally making it to the first line again. </span>
  <em>
    <span>‘There’s no way anyone can look that innocent. Must be on purpose.’</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>With their little squad reunited on the court things could take an interesting turn now. Tooru was looking forward to seeing their antics, positive they had prepared some kind of strategy for just the three of them.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>‘Entertain me, why don’t you?’</span>
  </em>
  <span> he smirked as Shiro-san got a hand under a tricky serve, managing to bring it up in a nice direction. </span>
  <em>
    <span>‘Now, who do we send you to, hm?’</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He opted for that first-year spiker, who was in a </span>
  <em>
    <span>dire</span>
  </em>
  <span> need of a nickname, “Yudacchi!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Despite getting startled by the way he’d been addressed, Yudacchi delivered a pretty decent cross spike, landing it neatly between that pink-haired menace and a third-year middle blocker. It wasn’t impossible to get, but they both halted seeing the other rush for the ball at the same time. A miscommunication on their part.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>16-11</b>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Well, that was yours Makki,” Sugawara sighed deeply and shook his head, “I am severely disappointed, darling.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The pink-haired teen only snorted in amusement, “Scold me again when coming up to your receiving standards will </span>
  <em>
    <span>actually</span>
  </em>
  <span> be possible, m’kay angel?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“The score gap isn’t getting any slimmer Mr.Refreshing,” Tooru chimed in, causing the two of them to whip their heads around in surprise. “Got any other tricks up your refreshing sleeve? If so, you better hurry up and use them, or there won’t be any more chances~”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You’re a really shitty guy, you know that?” Iwa-chan grumbled behind him, attempting to smack the back of his head, but Tooru ducked just in time.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Rude! Iwa-chan, rude!” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Still true, though,” Makki shrugged, making Sugawara giggle before the setter replied to Tooru’s previous question, “Don’t worry Oikawa-kun, we still have plenty of time to wipe the court with that smug face of yours.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oomf,” the third counterpart added, seemingly appearing out of nowhere, “do you need ice for that burn?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Well aren’t you all a </span>
  <em>
    <span>delight</span>
  </em>
  <span> to be around,” they didn’t have time for idle chit-chat, the game resuming with the ball on the green team’s side, Kashiwagi-senpai serving it closely to the left sideline, but the libero saved it, if a little shakily.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Sugawara had to make a little beeline towards the ball, setting it even quicker to his pink-haired friend.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Trust that freaking menace to smash it in a wicked cross-cut to the right corner of the court.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>16-12</b>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“We’ll do that again, so watch out alright?” Sugawara said and this time, his innocent-looking smile had an unmistakable devious edge to it.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>‘Little devil,’</span>
  </em>
  <span> and speaking of devils, he  was up for a serve now, directing it so close to the back line even Tooru couldn’t tell if it was still in or not. He wasn’t surprised by the back-row players calling it an “Out!”.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>What he was surprised by, was the way the ball hit the narrow white line </span>
  <em>
    <span>squarely</span>
  </em>
  <span> in the middle.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>16-13</b>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>‘His serves are </span>
  </em>
  <span>so</span>
  <em>
    <span> not refreshing at all!’</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Nice serve, Suga!” that curly-haired middle blocker shouted from up the net. “Three more points to go!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh no, you don’t,” Asano got a hand under it, managing to bring it relatively close to where Tooru was standing, “Sorry, it’s a little short!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>‘It’s enough,’ </span>
  </em>
  <span>Tooru jumped with his hands outstretched and sent the ball towards his best friend, “Shut them up properly, Iwa-chan!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The toss was perfect, Iwa-chan’s approach on point, he looked like he was flying yet again. Only this time, there was someone following him and keeping up with his pace. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Iwaizumi swung his arm fast, but the third counterpart did it even faster, stopping Iwa-chan’s spike dead in its tracks and smashing it into the floor, as nobody from the back row moved in time for the block to follow.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>16-14</b>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You gotta be kidding me,” Tooru mumbled, as the rest of the trouble trio clapped the curly-haired middle blocker on the back, shouting, “Nice, Mattsun!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>‘I knew the red-team wanted the tallest block against Iwa-chan,’</span>
  </em>
  <span> this time he </span>
  <em>
    <span>did</span>
  </em>
  <span> make his bottom lip bleed, what with how hard he was biting it, </span>
  <em>
    <span>‘but I didn’t think this one guy would be enough to stop him.’</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He still tasted metal in his mouth when Sugawara sent his third set over the net. Shiro-san bumped it nicely and Tooru had a sudden petty urge to toss to Iwaizumi again, just to show that he </span>
  <em>
    <span>could</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He did just that and this time, Mattsun didn’t manage to completely shut him down, the spike only slowing in its pace because of colliding with his right hand, “One touch!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Tch,” Iwaizumi mirrored Tooru’s irritation, as the red-team’s libero saved the ball. “So persistent.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Suddenly, there was a lot of movement on both sides of the court. On the right Mattsun was moving for a broad, on the left Makki jumped for a back attack. In the middle of it all Sugawara glided under the ball, while Tooru and Iwaizumi moved to block the pink-haired spiker, leaving the curly-haired middle blocker to the other first-year, who got him covered.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Not enough apparently, because to Tooru’s surprise Sugawara chose to send the ball to Mattsun instead of using him as a decoy. As Tooru watched the middle blocker come to a halt abruptly and use the momentum to jump in the </span>
  <em>
    <span>opposite direction</span>
  </em>
  <span> from the one he was headed towards, it dawned on him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Mattsun wasn’t in the front row to secure the highest possible block. He was there to make sure he and the pink-haired menace weren’t right next to each other.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It was to give Sugawara more options.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>16-15</b>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Seems you got on Suga’s bad side,” Mattsun drawled in a bored tone, one eyebrow rising in a taunting manner. “One more point.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>As he walked away to join his friends, Tooru spluttered, “Are they seriously going to even the score just like that?!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Not if we don’t let them,” Iwaizumi replied to his question, even though he intended to make it purely rhetorical, “You’re thinking too much.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Maybe,” he conceded and focused his attention on Sugawara again. </span>
  <em>
    <span>‘But it’s seriously unnerving how he switches between being predictable and puzzling in a matter of seconds.’</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The worst of it all was that the feeling of familiarity was gone </span>
  <em>
    <span>again</span>
  </em>
  <span>, even though Tooru was sure he was just a step away from figuring it all out. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>‘What is it about you, Mr.Refreshing?’</span>
  </em>
  <span> serve number four was lighter, aimed around the third meter, so close Yudacchi had to dive in order to dig it. </span>
  <em>
    <span>‘Where have I seen you before?’</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Yudacchi’s receive was off - it was coming back to the other side of the net.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Motomu push it!” he shouted, still laying half-sprawled on the ground. Sawa-chin jumped at the exact same time as Mattsun did. The latter had an advantage in terms of height however, and so he ticked the ball down before the former had even a chance to touch it.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>16-16</b>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>‘Unbelievable,’</span>
  </em>
  <span> Tooru shook his head in mild disbelief, mind going in a thousand different directions, because the huge lead they managed to secure at the beginning of the match was gone</span>
  <em>
    <span>, just like that.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You’ve been awfully quiet since they changed members,” Iwaizumi pointed out, his Tooru-radar seemingly acting out alongside his motherly instincts. “I told you, you’re thinking too much. Just give the next one to me.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>‘So reliable,’</span>
  </em>
  <span> Tooru couldn’t help but feel reassured. Giving a little military salute, he replied, “Yessir!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Serve number five hit the tape before bouncing off to their side of the court, but Yudacchi was waiting for it to happen. Tooru could tell by the looks on his teammates' faces that they were all equally pissed about their lost lead and determined to get it back.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>‘And the most determined one,’</span>
  </em>
  <span> he sent the ball to the left without missing a beat, </span>
  <em>
    <span>‘is definitely Iwa-chan.’</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It was clearly visible in the way his steps were just a little bit more sure, his swing just a little bit more powerful and his grin just a little bit more </span>
  <em>
    <span>feral</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The blockers were thrown back with the sheer</span>
  <em>
    <span> brutality </span>
  </em>
  <span>of that one hit.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>17-16</b>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Now come on,” Iwa-chan grabbed a ball and pushed it at Tooru’s chest, “go ahead and crush them with your serves. And don’t you dare think we can’t turn the score around.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Alrighty then, Iwa-chan~” he replied, flashing him a tiny smirk, “Let’s see if Mr.Refreshing can still be so refreshing after I plummet their hopes of winning down.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>‘Start with the obvious holes in their defense,’</span>
  </em>
  <span> he spun the ball in his palms and took a deep breath, </span>
  <em>
    <span>‘we’ll move from there to that Little Devil.’</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He threw the ball up and took a few necessary strides. Maybe it was the bitterness of the lost points, maybe his anger and confusion regarding Sugawara fuelling him, but Tooru was feeling particularly </span>
  <em>
    <span>vicious</span>
  </em>
  <span> about this serve.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He aimed at that second-year libero’s face - so close that he had to duck a little to the side, making the ball slam into his shoulder and slide onto the floor a few feet away.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>18-16</b>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“How about this,” Tooru said, eying Sugawara mockingly, “for every point you took from us, I’m going to take one back myself, m’kay?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The silver-haired setter didn’t reply in any way. He held Tooru’s gaze for a few seconds before walking away, assuming his position in the back row, as if to say, ‘Give it to me, I can take it.’</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>‘So eager, Mr.Refreshing, color me impressed,’ </span>
  </em>
  <span>Tooru licked his lips, knowing full well that the grin splitting them was one of his scarier expressions,</span>
  <em>
    <span> ‘but not yet. First, we need to check…’</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Makki was in a little better position to receive than Kanzaki-the-awful-libero. The ball made contact squarely with his forearms, only to slip off of them with the intensity of the extra spin Tooru added to it. Another failed attempt.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>19-16</b>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>‘And now,’</span>
  </em>
  <span> Tooru vaguely registered his teammates and a few other members’ cheering, calling out his name, </span>
  <em>
    <span>‘the last one to go.’</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>For some unknown reason, Tooru was looking forward to seeing Mr.Refreshing’s reaction to that particular serve. He wanted- No, he </span>
  <em>
    <span>needed </span>
  </em>
  <span>to know if the other setter could return that.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He had a feeling it may reveal a very important piece of information, give Tooru one more piece of this puzzle named Sugawara Koushi.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>That being said, he nearly missed the court with his next serve - his excitement must have gotten the best of him, making his swing a tad bit </span>
  <em>
    <span>too</span>
  </em>
  <span> energetic. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Out!” somebody from the red team shouted, but it wasn’t the correct call. Tooru could tell the ball would make it in - barely, but still.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It seemed Sugawara also knew that, throwing himself onto the floor with a dive, determined to dig it. At that moment Tooru wasn’t sure if it was from keen observation or pure instinct, but the fact that the silver-haired setter reacted so quickly had proven something. What exactly, Tooru didn’t know yet, but he was making progress in uncovering this little mystery.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The ball connected with Sugawara’s hands, but it seemed like he wasn’t able to properly contain its force and speed, what with how rushed his attempt of digging it was. It was undoubtedly making its way back to the green team’s side of the court.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Chance ball!” Yudacchi passed him the ball, Tooru making quick work of it setting to the first-year middle blocker, proudly dubbed ‘Sawa-chin’ (though he still wasn’t sure if he was even relatively close with it to the guy’s actual name). </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The back row was still scrambling after Sugawara’s frantic receive, so with the blockers tricked by a feint, nobody made it to the third meter, inevitably letting the ball fall there.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>20-16</b>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“And now we’re back to square one,” Iwaizumi grinned, slapping Tooru’s shoulder a little too forcefully in joy, “You alright?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yep~,” he replied, relishing the frustrated expression on Sugawara’s face, “Never have been better.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>His friend only huffed at that, not prompting any further. Tooru licked his lips during his little serve routine - they felt chapped, dry from his frantic breathing, seemingly matching his heartbeat. </span>
  <em>
    <span>‘Not enough,’</span>
  </em>
  <span> he thought as he threw the ball and jumped for his fourth serve. </span>
  <em>
    <span>‘More. Show me more, Mr.Refreshing.’</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The silver-haired setter didn’t disappoint - with a quick bounce on the balls of his feet, he was moving under the course of the ball in no time. He squatted on his left foot, his right extended for balance and took the hit almost effortlessly, crushing the momentum and aiming to the middle of the court. A flawless receive.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Makki!” Sugawara called out to his pink-haired friend, who wasted no time in getting under the pass.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>‘So he does act as an emergency setter,’</span>
  </em>
  <span> Tooru mused as the spiker set the ball neatly to the right, “Irine-senpai!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Two out of their three blockers made it in time, closing off seemingly any possible window for a successful hit. Despite that, Irine managed to squeeze the ball between Shiro-san’s left hand and the antenna, brushing his fingertips and earning himself a block-out.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>20-17</b>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Alright!” Sugawara and Makki shared a high-five, soon moving on to attack Irine with their enthusiasm.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>‘Well that was something else,’</span>
  </em>
  <span> Tooru conceded, mind flying off to many different directions, </span>
  <em>
    <span>‘way too good for someone from a no-name school.’</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Was he perhaps misinterpreting? The fact that he hadn’t heard about Nagamushi, or whatever school Sugawara came from, didn’t mean that they had an entirely mediocre team. Perhaps Tooru just hadn’t had a chance to stumble upon them during his time in Kitagawa Daiichi?</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>‘Then where does this feeling come from?’</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He had a hunch that all he needed at this point was to just twist his viewpoint a little - maybe he chose to look at Mystery Man Sugawara from the wrong perspective and unknowingly dismissed some possible explanations?</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>‘I need to stop thinking about him as an average guy from an even more average team,’</span>
  </em>
  <span> he watched from the corner of his eye how Iwa-chan aimed a set at Sugawara again, the latter returning it with even less effort than the previous one, </span>
  <em>
    <span>‘and start looking for somebody amazing, whom I had probably only seen in passing.’</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Narrowing the endless pool of faces in his head didn’t help him as much as he thought it would, his mind sent reeling again when another quick set to Mattsun connected with the floor, Asano missing it by barely an inch.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>20-18</b>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hey Iwa-chan,” an idea suddenly popped up in his brain, so he beckoned his friend over, willing to try it. After acquiring an affirmative noise, he continued, “Aim for a block-out with your next spike. Smash it like usual, but not outside of the court - to the inside.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Iwaizumi arched an eyebrow in surprise, “What? Why?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Just trust me, I want to check something.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Sure, whatever,” Iwaizumi shrugged and turned to walk away before adding, “Don’t mess up your toss.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Tooru scoffed, offended, “How dare you insult my tosses?! Rude, Iwa-chan, so rude!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He could tell that Sugawara and his little hit squad presumed that he was plotting something. The three of them were eying him suspiciously even after the game resumed, which was exactly what Tooru wanted in the first place.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The moment he sent the ball over to Iwa-chan, Mattsun was already there, two other blockers trailing not far behind. Iwa-chan did as told, smashing the ball against Makki’s left palm. His arm was thrown back by the impact, the ball easily slipping past and plummeting down rapidly.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Sugawara was there - palm laid flat on the gym floor, the two-or-so centimeters separating it from the ball, desperate expression on his face and suddenly Tooru remembered </span>
  <em>
    <span>exactly</span>
  </em>
  <span> where he had seen those silvery locks before.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Sendai City Gymnasium buzzed with the sound of shoes squeaking on the floor, dull thumps of balls being passed, loud calls of players and excited chatter of spectators. There were unusually many people - normally there would be way less, since it was only the first day of InterHigh and not many spectacular matches were about to happen. </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>‘They want to see the last tournament for a few prefecture stars,’</span>
  <em>
    <span> Tooru assumed, as he and Iwa-chan took the stairs leading to the bleachers. </span>
  </em>
  <span>‘Not that I blame them. Honestly - who wouldn’t want to see the great Oikawa Tooru triumph over that jerk Ushijima.’</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Having placed high in the previous tournament, Kitagawa Daiichi was excused from playing the first match. They had a lot of time before they had to begin warming up, so Tooru took this opportunity to slip away and drag Iwa-chan to check out a few of their potential opponents.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“I heard Chidoriyama got an amazing libero this year,” he chirped in enthusiastically. “He’s supposedly a second-year, already rumored to be a genius.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“So you want to analyze his every movement to then crush him, while cackling like a maniac,” Iwaizumi mumbled, catching the slightly dark undertone by the end of Tooru’s sentence. “Honestly, can’t you go one day without using everyone to boost your ego Shittykawa?”</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“You don’t have to always assume the worst of me, Iwa-chan,” he retorted, while they passed a few players from other schools. “I’ll have you know that Oikawa-san is the most kind and harmless person alive!”</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Iwaizumi snorted incredulously, “Yeah, right.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>They made it to the side of the court Chidoriyama was supposed to play at right about now. However, from the looks of it, the previous match hadn’t ended yet and there were no signs of it ending soon - the match was only nearing the second half of the first set.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Looks like the match got delayed,” Iwaizumi pointed out the obvious, to which Tooru rolled his eyes exasperatedly. “Shut up. We probably don’t have enough time to wait for it. Wanna go somewhere else?”</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Tooru was going to reply that ‘yes, they should probably go’ but a movement from below caught his attention. He promptly closed his mouth and followed the blur to a team with white uniforms and among them a silver-haired boy - who seemed to be the libero - wearing a red uniform with number 11, currently throwing himself onto the floor in a reckless dive. He didn’t make it.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Nah, let’s stay here for a bit,” he replied instead, his curiosity piqued and focused solely on that short libero.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Iwaizumi raised a surprised eyebrow at that. He looked like he wanted to inquire about his reasons, but must have seen something in Tooru’s face, as he seemingly dropped whatever he wanted to ask and instead said, “Sure, whatever,” resting his forearms on the railing next to Tooru and leaning forward slightly.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Meanwhile, the guy had Tooru’s entire attention as he watched his every receive - some were spot on little bumps that looked almost effortless and some were more rushed, bordering on dangerous, the guy diving to the floor without care for his own wellbeing.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“That guy’s insane,” Iwa-chan muttered, quickly catching on to what Tooru was watching. “He’s gonna get himself hurt.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Tooru hummed in agreement. He couldn’t see the guy’s expression from up here, he and his team facing the other side. The next hastily done dig was successful, the ball going up towards the setter, who sent it left. The spiker for whom the toss was intended smashed it dead on the block. It plummeted to the ground soon after, the little libero not even having enough time to stand up again properly.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>‘What is this setter doing?!’</span>
  <em>
    <span> he thought furiously, watching him mess up another attack by miscalculating the toss’s direction. </span>
  </em>
  <span>‘Couldn’t he see the block there?! Is he blind?!’</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Similar situations repeated one after another, way too much to be considered a coincidence, but not so much for it to be deliberate. It was an issue of skill difference - the other team being visibly stronger than the red-white team with the reckless libero.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“It’s kinda sad,” Tooru said after a while. “No matter how many balls he’d raise this way, if no one scores the point then it’s meaningless.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“His determination is amazing, I gotta give him that,” Iwaizumi added, “but you’re right. He can’t win like this by himself.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Tooru didn’t know how long they stood there, watching the silver-haired libero save about as many balls as he’d missed. “In any other team, he’d probably be a star.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Yeah, probably.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>It was nearing the end of the set when a voice behind them exclaimed, “Oikawa-san, Iwaizumi-san. The coach asked me to tell you to meet for a warm-up.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>It was one of their first-years, with weirdly styled spiky hair that looked a little like a radish, whose name Tooru couldn’t remember no matter how hard he tried.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Thanks, Kindaichi. We’ll be going soon,” thankfully Iwaizumi spared him the embarrassment, waving the kid off before turning to Tooru, “Come on, let’s go.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>‘I wish I could see his face,’ </span>
  <em>
    <span>with a last glance at the silver-haired libero, Tooru turned away, mind turning from the way the guy jumped frantically for every ball to the match he would soon be playing in. </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>By the end of the day, the sight of the silvery locks and blood red uniform had been entirely forgotten.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The ball ricocheted off of Sugawara’s palm, flying over the net once again and Tooru was instantly </span>
  <em>
    <span>blinded</span>
  </em>
  <span> with anger upon seeing the determination and slight bewilderment on that pale, round face.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He jumped as high as he could and </span>
  <em>
    <span>slammed </span>
  </em>
  <span>the ball down, not giving anyone even a slightest chance to react.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b> 21-18</b>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“That was insane!” Iwa-chan hooked an arm around his shoulder, smiling from ear to ear. His grin soon faltered upon noticing Tooru’s furious expression, “Oi, are you alright?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“He’s a liar.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Huh? Hey what do you mean?!” Iwaizumi looked visibly puzzled, not knowing what had taken over his friend. “Oi, Assikawa!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Upon solving the mystery, Sugawara Koushi confused Tooru even more than before.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>***</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>In the end, they won the first set 25-21, without other major issues. Tooru had to sit out the next set, some second-year placed instead of him, but that was alright - he had shown everything he needed to secure himself a spot in the first string, he was sure. Besides, it gave him a little more time to cool off and think things through.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He observed Sugawara for the entirety of the second set, the silver-haired setter leading his team to a very narrow loss of 25-23. Tooru had to admit that he was a pretty good setter. He just couldn’t shake the image of that blood red uniform and reckless determination whenever Sugawara made the first touch. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He couldn’t understand how Sugawara could throw it away that </span>
  <em>
    <span>easily.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The match ended after the second set, the coaches delegating them to clean up the gym. </span>
  <em>
    <span>‘Now or never,’</span>
  </em>
  <span> Tooru thought as he approached Sugawara, who was collecting the balls and throwing them into the cart, his friends busy with taking down the net.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Why did you lie?” he asked bluntly. In hindsight, he probably should have rephrased that or better yet - not start the conversation </span>
  <em>
    <span>in the first place</span>
  </em>
  <span> and wait for another occasion to enquire the other setter. Preferably, when his own blood wasn’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>boiling</span>
  </em>
  <span> in his veins and clouding his judgement.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Sugawara looked at him then, chocolate eyes wide open with surprise, his mouth gaping a little, “What do you mean Oikawa-kun?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oi, what the hell are you doing Shittykawa?” Iwaizumi must have overheard his question and from the looks of it, so did Sugawara’s friends, if the inquisitive stares and raised eyebrows he received were any indication.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Tooru didn’t pay them any mind and continued, “You lied about being a setter, didn’t you?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Sugawara paled at his words, mouth opening and closing, before he decided to mask his little slip up with a cough, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Really?” Tooru huffed a laugh, even though he felt many things at the moment and none of them was </span>
  <em>
    <span>amusement</span>
  </em>
  <span>. “Because I’ve been to one of your matches, you know? And I clearly remember seeing you play as a </span>
  <em>
    <span>libero</span>
  </em>
  <span>, not setter. So, care to explain?”</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Ooooh drama~ Also my god, is this chapter an OC festa (I am so not sorry hahaha)</p><p>Three reasons why I think Seijoh!Suga could've been a libero:<br/>1. Seijoh's history of making setters into liberos (as represented by Watari)<br/>2. that one panel in chapter 242 were Suga gets subbed in for just one point and ends up doing an epic receive? fucking awesome<br/>and 3. this isn't even a reason, I just want Suga and Oikawa to stand on the court together during matches welp</p><p>Shoutout to the absolute treasure of a beta <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/alive_polish_fan">alive_polish_fan</a> who I haven't heard a single word of complaint, even though she must have been as confused as to what was going on during that match as I was while checking it (I may or may not have thrown away the sticky notes on which I had the rotations of both teams written down :P )</p><p>But I also may or may not post the photo of them (if I find it) later on my tumblr <a href="https://master-of-nyom.tumblr.com/">MasterOfNyom</a> where aside from that, you can get a little sneak preview of every chapter one day before I post it here!</p><p>Thanks for reading everybody and prepare for more angst *laughs maniacally*<br/>MasterOfNyom, over and out!</p><p>Next time: Oikawa gets double-teamed, Suga has a hard time and nobody seems to know how to help (besides Makki, cause that's what he does)</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Things I Don’t Want to Remember</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>In which Oikawa sucks at putting his thoughts into words, Suga has some flashbacks and the Meme Team unofficially becomes Suga’s Protection Squad.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>“Why did you lie?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>At first Suga </span>
  <em>
    <span>legitimately</span>
  </em>
  <span> had no idea what Oikawa was talking about. He wanted to cock his head to the side, give a clear indication that he had absolutely no clue whatsoever, but there was something </span>
  <em>
    <span>firm</span>
  </em>
  <span> in the other’s expression, which made him hesitate and ask cautiously instead, “What do you mean Oikawa-kun?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oi what the hell are you doing Shittykawa?” Iwaizumi exclaimed loudly, coming up to them. He must have heard them talking, just like Makki and Mattsun did, the former eying Oikawa suspiciously while the latter raised an inquisitive eyebrow, observing the situation from the side.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Oikawa didn’t pay them any mind and added bluntly, “You lied about being a setter didn’t you?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Suga’s ears started ringing, his vision blacking out for a minute, because </span>
  <em>
    <span>‘surely, surely he cannot </span>
  </em>
  <span>know</span>
  <em>
    <span>, can he?’</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“You don’t mind, do you?”</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He didn’t know how long his silence lasted - he felt like it was forever and didn’t want it to stop. Suga wanted to drown in the haze clouding his mind, but realizing that the longer he remained quiet, the more of an answer he might as well be giving, he forced himself to calm down. He opened his mouth, his throat suddenly feeling tight and he </span>
  <em>
    <span>‘absolutely cannot fail right now’. </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Swallowing his fear down he forced out a little cough before finally choking out, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>That was apparently the wrong answer, because Oikawa’s face flicked between firm to downright </span>
  <em>
    <span>furious</span>
  </em>
  <span> and Suga couldn’t understand, </span>
  <em>
    <span>‘Did I offend him somehow? What is this about?’</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The other setter huffed a laugh, stirring a weird feel of dread deep in Suga’s gut, “Really? Because I’ve been to one of your matches, you know?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>No. He couldn’t. There was absolutely no way someone like Oikawa would know of his middle school - it was a no-name school with an even more no-name team. He couldn’t possibly have come to see their matches… </span>
  <em>
    <span>right?</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And even if he had, what chances are that he had seen </span>
  <em>
    <span>that</span>
  </em>
  <span> match in particular?</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“And I clearly remember seeing you play as a </span>
  <em>
    <span>libero</span>
  </em>
  <span>, not setter. So, care to explain?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Apparently pretty damn high.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Suga felt like a tsunami had just swept away all his thoughts, leaving him devastated but oddly enough, </span>
  <em>
    <span>calm</span>
  </em>
  <span>. His mind was strangely blank and with a level voice, he replied, “I think it’s a misunderstanding. Are you sure it was me? There must have been many more interesting players, you could be remembering wrong.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Oikawa then laughed - it was a full-on laugh, unlike his previous mock amusement, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes, “Nice try, Mr.Refreshing, but no. I am </span>
  <em>
    <span>positive</span>
  </em>
  <span> it had been you - despite what you might be saying and thinking about yourself, you’re pretty recognizable.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You going somewhere with this?” Makki chimed in, abandoning his spot next to Mattsun in order to move a little closer to Suga. “Or are you just harassing Suga for fun?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>‘Harassing’</span>
  </em>
  <span>?” Oikawa snickered. “No, no, no, that’s not what I’m doing at all! I just wanted to know why he told such a filthy little lie, that’s it~!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>That sing-song tone of his voice felt sickening to the bone, sinking like poison into the depth of Suga’s memories. He kind of reminded him of Kayo in this way - or rather, of captain Kayama, when he assumed that fake, polite tone to tell Suga that they didn’t need him anymore.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“I’m really sorry about this Sugawara, but you know how it is.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span> “After all, the position would be better off with someone who the team actually trusts, don’t you think?”</span>
  </em>
  
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Did you really?” Mattsun was at his side too, glaring at Oikawa vehemently and </span>
  <em>
    <span>‘whoa, I did not know he could even make that kind of expression’.</span>
  </em>
  <span> “Doesn’t seem like it to me.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“He didn’t lie about anything, or perhaps you didn’t see? How he outsmarted ‘the great Oikawa Tooru’ there, on court?” Makki was fuming with rage, on the verge of exploding.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Seriously, what the fuck are you doing Shittykawa?!” It seemed Iwaizumi’s mind stopped at that one sentence, not following the conversation and playing on repeat like a broken record. In any other situation Suga would find this amusing, but laughing was the last thing he felt like doing at that very moment.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It seemed Oikawa didn’t have that kind of problem, laughing off Makki’s statement heartily, “No, didn’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>you</span>
  </em>
  <span> see, how he dominated the back row with those receives? These weren’t the moves of a setter, I can assure you.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“So that’s what this is about,” Iwaizumi unpaused himself and started glaring at Oikawa too. “You’re bitching, ‘cause he was better than you at something.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Aw~, is the King’s ego that fragile?” Makki asked mockingly, circling his arm around Suga’s shoulders. “Had I known it was this easy to tease the Trash King, I would have done so earlier!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What the-? No!” Oikawa whipped his head angrily towards Iwaizumi. “You were there with me, Iwa-chan, don’t you remember?! That reckless little libero in a red uniform? You know, when we went to see Chidoriyama, but found out their match got delayed?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>‘Please, no,’</span>
  </em>
  <span> Suga watched in bewilderment as realization slowly dawned on Iwaizumi’s face. </span>
  <em>
    <span>‘I won’t be able to brush it off like this.’</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh yeah, you’re right,” Iwaizumi scrunched his brows in confusion. “But he is clearly a setter </span>
  <em>
    <span>now</span>
  </em>
  <span>, so how could that be?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“That’s </span>
  <em>
    <span>exactly</span>
  </em>
  <span> what I would like to know!” Oikawa flashed him a bright smile and there wasn’t a moment when Suga hated him more than now. “Mind telling us, Mr.Refreshing? Enlighten us!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He was vaguely aware of Makki snapping at the other setter, of Mattsun backing him up and Iwaizumi switching his gaze between them and Oikawa, as if watching a tennis match. He was also aware of the constant ringing in his ears, memories playing on a loop in his head and his own fists clenched so tightly, he might have drawn blood if he hadn’t trimmed his nails this morning.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The rage was </span>
  <em>
    <span>blinding</span>
  </em>
  <span> when he cut into the little screaming match they were having and said lowly, “So what?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It was as if he had shouted, the three of them falling silent in an instant, “Wha-?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, I was a libero during that match - so what? That doesn’t mean I was a libero </span>
  <em>
    <span>in general</span>
  </em>
  <span> - the team was small, there was no one for the position, so I took it. That hardly counts as a lie now, does it?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh please,” Oikawa scoffed, “no one-time libero plays like that. You’re a filthy little liar Mr.Refreshing, what’s in it for you?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No, what’s in it for </span>
  <em>
    <span>you</span>
  </em>
  <span>, that’s the question,” Makki spat out furiously, pointing a finger at the other setter. “What he did or didn’t do in middle school is not your goddamn business, so fuck off Oikawa!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Also,” Oikawa continued undeterred, as if he hadn’t heard Makki’s statement at all - or perhaps he had heard it, but just chose to ignore it, “even if you did only play as a libero </span>
  <em>
    <span>once</span>
  </em>
  <span>, that doesn’t explain why you were - and still are, mind you - such a little beast at it. Unless you’re some kind of a genius, which you sure aren’t, then that means someone trained his ass off and is playing dumb right now~ So really, what’s in it for you, hm~?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>‘Is he complimenting or insulting me right now?’ </span>
  </em>
  <span>Suga wondered. </span>
  <em>
    <span>‘I can’t tell because of that tone of his.’</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The added playfulness made the remarks feel much more hurtful than normal, leaving Suga in a defensive state, desperately trying to hold back his emotions lest they take the best of him. Which could result either in him lashing out, crying or </span>
  <em>
    <span>both.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Listen, Oikawa-kun,” he stated calmly, despite the tremors wracking his body, “I really was a libero for that one tournament - I have always been a setter and have no desire to change that, as you might have already noticed.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Oikawa threw his hands back, “But that’s so </span>
  <em>
    <span>stupid</span>
  </em>
  <span><em>!</em> The team </span>
  <em>
    <span>clearly</span>
  </em>
  <span> lacks good liberos, so why wouldn’t you jump on the opportunity to make the first string early?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Just then, something inside of Suga </span>
  <em>
    <span>snapped</span>
  </em>
  <span>, like a rubber band that has been stretched too far, his restraints failing to reign his anger in.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh, I’m stupid now, aren’t I?” he spat out viciously, causing Makki and Mattsun to twitch. The atmosphere turned cold, like the temperature suddenly dropped about ten full degrees, “Because I want to be the team’s setter?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Just like he told Makki that first night they went to the rec center - he wasn’t going to give up so easily. He was</span>
  <em>
    <span> sick</span>
  </em>
  <span> of giving up something dear to him for somebody else’s benefit - for once, Suga wanted to do something for himself and fight for it til the end.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“We gotta do what’s best for the team. You don’t mind, do you?”</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“If you don’t see me as a competition, that’s fine,” he stared straight at Oikawa, who had this weird flicker in his eyes, as if he was watching something interesting unfold and </span>
  <em>
    <span>‘is he enjoying this?’</span>
  </em>
  <span>, “but don’t you </span>
  <em>
    <span>dare </span>
  </em>
  <span>make fun of me for my dreams, Oikawa. And get that in that bullheaded brain of yours - I am </span>
  <em>
    <span>not</span>
  </em>
  <span> giving up as a setter.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>For a moment, Oikawa was quiet and Suga thought, </span>
  <em>
    <span>‘Oh great, I finally managed to shut him up.’</span>
  </em>
  <span> But just as he began to turn to finish collecting the scattered balls, the other setter opened his mouth again, “This isn’t about whether I see you as a competition or not. I’m not gonna lie, you </span>
  <em>
    <span>did</span>
  </em>
  <span> get me there a few times during the match, but other than that, you’re pretty predictable.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Well, sorry,” Suga scoffed, “for being such a boring, simple guy. </span>
  <em>
    <span>My bad.</span>
  </em>
  <span>”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Wow, no need to be so sarcastic, that clashes too much with your refreshing persona~,” Oikawa was no doubt enjoying it. “Anyway, this isn’t about petty rivalry or whatever - I’m talking about the </span>
  <em>
    <span>glaring </span>
  </em>
  <span>skill difference between us. I mean, let’s face it - as long as I’m here, the team won’t have any use for you as a setter. You should just give it up and be a libero instead, Mr.Refreshing!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>There was a sound of a breath being sucked in harshly - it was probably Makki, not that Suga could tell for sure. In his head, Oikawa’s sing-song voice was overlapping with Kayo’s, mixing together and distorting, to the point that he could no longer make them out.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You,” yup, it was Makki alright, “you just went </span>
  <em>
    <span>too</span>
  </em>
  <span> fucking far you piece of-”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It’s fine,” Suga interrupted his friend before he could </span>
  <em>
    <span>murder</span>
  </em>
  <span> the other setter - he was definitely pissed off enough to attempt that.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Makki looked like he just punched him in the gut as he exclaimed, “What?! How can you be fine with this Suga?!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m really not,” he replied with faked indifference, puzzling his pink-haired friend even further, “but he might be right.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“...someone who the team actually trusts…”</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“...as long as I’m here, the team won’t have any use for you…”</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“You don’t mind, do you?”</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Maybe I really don’t mean much to the team,” Suga conceded, letting his cold fury boil through his words, one word at a time, in a rage-fueled crescendo, “wouldn’t be the first time. After all, it says a lot that even my supposed </span>
  <em>
    <span>teammate</span>
  </em>
  <span> didn’t bother with remembering my </span>
  <em>
    <span>goddamn</span>
  </em>
  <span> name!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Suddenly everything felt too quiet - he must have gathered everyone’s attention with the way he was shouting near the end. His self-consciousness screaming at him to </span>
  <em>
    <span>get the fuck out of there</span>
  </em>
  <span>, Suga turned and walked away, throwing only, “I’m going home, see you tomorrow,” after his shoulder, without turning back.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>As expected, Makki went after him to the locker room, trying to stop him. “Hey, Suga…” he tried to put his hand on Suga’s shoulder, but Suga ducked in favor of opening his locker and hurriedly stuffing everything into his bag, not bothering with changing out of his gym clothes.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m fine,” he didn’t like how his voice quivered slightly, no doubt Makki heard that as well. After a little thought, he threw on his club jacket, his bag following soon. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Don’t give me that crap, you’re certainly </span>
  <em>
    <span>not</span>
  </em>
  <span> fine,” Makki argued, but he must have noticed how his tone made Suga flinch a little, because in a much softer voice he added, “Just- Hold on, lemme change real quick, I’ll go with you.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No need,” Suga hesitated a little before sliding the door open. With his back still facing his friend, he said, “Bye,” and left, closing the door quietly and forcing his feet to make some effort. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He was halfway to the main school building when he heard Makki call out his name. Feeling a little guilty he faltered in his steps, but shook himself off quickly, </span>
  <em>
    <span>‘No, he’ll be alright. I should just head home.’</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“You’re a filthy little liar Mr.Refreshing…”</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“...as long as I’m here, the team won’t have any use for you…”</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“You don’t mind, do you?”</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He was so lost in thought, he didn’t realize when he had made it to his bus stop. Leaning his back on a wall behind a bench, he craned his neck up, blinking furiously to stop the prickling itch in the corners of his eyes. Soon enough though, he felt himself lose that battle too, bitter resentment filling him to the brim, whispering, </span>
  <em>
    <span>“he’s right, he’s right, you know he’s right,” </span>
  </em>
  <span>over and over again in his head.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The rain felt almost poetic, as the cold droplets fell on Suga’s face, mixing with the hot tears running down his cheeks. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>***</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>‘This is not how I wanted this conversation to go,’ </span>
  </em>
  <span>Tooru thought to himself bitterly, </span>
  <em>
    <span>‘at all.’</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>As soon as Mr.Refreshing - no, </span>
  <em>
    <span>Sugawara</span>
  </em>
  <span> - left the gym, his pink-headed friend stormed right after him, glaring at Tooru murderously. The third counterpart meanwhile, looked a little lost, like he didn’t know whether he should follow after the rest of the trio or stay and badmouth Tooru.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Iwa-chan didn’t have that problem.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What the fuck was that about Assikawa?!” he looked like he contemplated punching Tooru or shaking some sense into him. Perhaps it was both. “That is a whole new level of shittyness, why did you come and pester the guy anyway?!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Cause he’s making a mistake!” Tooru snapped exasperatedly. “You’ve seen him play before - he would make an </span>
  <em>
    <span>amazing</span>
  </em>
  <span> libero and he’s wasting his talent right now!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Well then, maybe you should’ve said so in the first place, instead of insulting him and calling him a li-”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You rotten piece of human garbage!” Makki stormed back in, coming straight for Tooru with killing intent written all over his face. “What the fuck is </span>
  <em>
    <span>wrong</span>
  </em>
  <span> with you?!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Had the third counterpart not grabbed him in a body lock, he would have surely ripped Tooru to </span>
  <em>
    <span>shreds.</span>
  </em>
  <span> Instead, he was struggling in Mattsun’s hold, while Iwa-chan came in front of Tooru, shielding him a little, ready to come in when necessary.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Who do you think you are?!” Makki gave up trying to break out of the middle blocker’s hold, opting for running his mouth from this position instead. “You don’t get to just come and pull some random shit over Suga! You don’t get to judge him for stuff you have absolutely no idea about, you hear me motherfucker?!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Okay, alright,” Mattsun coaxed his captive, taking a step or two away from Tooru and Iwaizumi, “I get that you’re angry, but you need to chill Makki. Did you talk to Suga?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I didn’t get the chance! He was out before I knew it - damn, he didn’t even look at me!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>‘Now that’s weird,’ </span>
  </em>
  <span>Tooru mused. Then, realizing something after finally processing Makki’s words he asked, “Wait, does that mean that you knew about him being a libero?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh my god,” Makki rolled his eyes and spat out furiously, “No, I didn’t, you dickhead, I only suspected. Happy?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Tooru’s puzzled expression mirrored Iwaizumi’s as they said at the same time, “But aren’t you guys </span>
  <em>
    <span>best friends</span>
  </em>
  <span>?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Aren’t you guys </span>
  <em>
    <span>dating</span>
  </em>
  <span>?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What?!” he looked at his childhood friend in bewilderment. “Where did that come from?!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Iwa-chan was blushing profusely, even more so than that one time during the match and </span>
  <em>
    <span>‘So that’s what it was about. What the hell.’</span>
  </em>
  <span> Mattsun looked like he was doing his damndest to contain his laughter, while Makki was suspended in a state of indecision between rage and amusement.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I can’t believe he seriously fell for that,” Tooru noted that the middle blocker’s hold on the pink-haired menace loosened a little, so he made one step behind Iwa-chan to make sure the burly teen was covering Tooru properly.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Shut up Mattsun, now’s not the time,” any other time, Makki would’ve probably made fun of Tooru too, but it seemed this time, anger won in his little internal battle. “And yes, we are best friends I guess, but it’s not like we had known each other that long - we only met on the first day, you know?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Now it was Tooru’s turn to scrunch his brows in surprise, “What, really?! You mean you were acting like Siamese twins all the time despite having known each other for literally only </span>
  <em>
    <span>two weeks</span>
  </em>
  <span>?!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Makki just shrugged, “Suga’s just easy to talk to.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>‘Like that explains anything.’</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“But…” Iwa-chan unpaused himself yet again, though he was still struggling with forming coherent sentences it seemed. “The other day, when I walked in on you guys-”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Nice choice of words Big Guy, I appreciate that,” Makki jumped on the unintentional innuendo with a wide smirk. His words were particularly funny, considering out of the four of them, Iwaizumi was definitely </span>
  <em>
    <span>the shortest.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“-weren’t you guys cuddling and all?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The pink-haired teen sighed deeply and shook his head in disappointment, his theatrical manner gradually coming back, “Look, if you don’t cuddle with your friends on a daily basis then that just means there’s something wrong with</span>
  <em>
    <span> you</span>
  </em>
  <span>, not us.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>As if to prove a point, he leaned more heavily on the curly-haired teen behind him, who in turn tucked the other’s head under his chin without missing a beat. With a wistful expression Mattsun said, “That’s just how things work with those two demons. And before you ask, I’ve been added only like, a few days ago.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Right…” Iwa-chan replied hesitantly, his mind must’ve short-circuited trying to process all that new information.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What is this commotion about, boys?” Irihata-sensei’s mellow tone cut into the conversation. “Could anyone explain what happened with Sugawara-kun?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Tooru opened his mouth to answer, but Iwaizumi was faster, “Me and Oikawa had seen Sugawara’s match at our last inter middle school tournament and thought he was an amazing libero, Coach. We wanted to ask why he isn’t playing in that position anymore, but </span>
  <em>
    <span>someone</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” he looked pointedly at Tooru, “didn’t think </span>
  <em>
    <span>thoroughly</span>
  </em>
  <span> before running his mouth.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Ah, I assume it must be somewhat of a sensitive issue for Sugawara-kun,” Coach Irihata nodded, concern mixing in with thoughtfulness on his expression. “Still, a libero. It’s true that his performance in the back row today was </span>
  <em>
    <span>outstanding</span>
  </em>
  <span>. It would be of great help for the team if that was the case.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I am certain, I’m not mistaken,” Tooru chimed in. “It was definitely Sugawara that we had seen that day. And from what I’ve seen today, he has gotten significantly better too.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hmm, interesting,” as Coach Irihata mused, Mizoguchi joined them as well, standing a little to the side. Tooru realized then that most of the upperclassmen have already left, leaving just their little group and a few regular after-hours players. “Is that true, Hanamaki-kun?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>‘So that’s his name,’</span>
  </em>
  <span> Tooru watched as the pink-haired teen reluctantly detached himself from the third counterpart before replying, “I am not entirely sure, sensei.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“How so?” Irihata inquired, not losing the overall pleasant vibe he exuded.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“As I was saying, I haven’t talked to Suga about his middle school team that much. I do know that he didn’t like them and what led to him losing his position as a primary setter, but that’s about it. The rest are purely my suspicions.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>‘He had lost his starting position?’</span>
  </em>
  <span> Tooru suddenly felt very, very guilty. </span>
  <em>
    <span>‘No wonder he got so mad before.’</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Irihata-sensei hummed, “And would you mind telling us about your suspicions?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Makki visibly hesitated, possibly feeling conflicted about if whatever he was about to say would be fine or bordering on betraying his friend’s trust. After a little moment, he finally replied, “I’m pretty sure he dropped out of the volleyball club after his last tournament. From what he has told me, he’d been training independently in a public rec center ever since.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Coach Irihata frowned in concern as he asked, “Was he having some trouble at his previous club?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It was a mutual dislike,” Makki stated cautiously, not really answering the question and making sure everyone understood that he had no intention of doing so. “Anyway I’ve been to that rec center with Suga a few times. I talked to some regulars and they said he had been coming occasionally even before that, once or twice a week. But after that tournament, he was there every day practicing tosses of course, but receives as well, if not primarily.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Tooru scrunched his eyebrows in confusion, “So then…?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“So, what Oikawa and Iwaizumi are saying might be true,” Makki conceded, though his expression told Tooru exactly how he felt about agreeing with him on this. “He might have remained on the team as a libero for that one tournament, I dunno. What I </span>
  <em>
    <span>do</span>
  </em>
  <span> know, is that he doesn’t feel all high and dandy about that fact.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Understandably so,” Irihata-sensei nodded, but Tooru couldn’t feel so easily reassured. He felt remorseful recalling his own words from a while ago, realizing how different an undertone they had from Sugawara’s point of view.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>‘Goddamnit, I really shouldn’t have said anything.’</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“We were planning on asking Sugawara to consider switching to libero,” Mizoguchi admitted, “but now I see he might not be as easily persuaded as we initially thought. How good would you say he is, Hanamaki?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Amazing,” Makki said simply. “Not trying to be disrespectful or anything, but I think he’s equally as good as Asano-senpai, if not better.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Ignoring the offended “Hey!” coming from said libero, who chose to stay behind with a few other first string players, the pink-haired teen hastily added, “He doesn’t have enough experience playing of course, but he’ll get there, I think. I just don’t know if he’d really want that.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Mizoguchi hummed affirmatively, “Oikawa?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Exceptional,” he said, relishing the look of pure surprise on Makki’s face. “A little rough around the edges and reckless, but I guess it’s just the kind of person he is. Determined and level-headed. Wickedly fast. And most importantly, extremely observant. He’d be perfect for the position, I’m sure.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Just as I thought,” Coach Irihata exclaimed. “It would be a shame to waste that kind of talent. I’ll make sure to mention the idea to Sugawara-kun personally, but in the meantime,” he turned to the trouble duo, “Hanamaki-kun, Matsukawa-kun - can I ask you to warm him up to it beforehand?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“We can try,” Mattsun said slowly, Makki at his side nodding along, “but I don’t think we can help much. Suga is pretty stubborn and vicious, despite his looks.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Please do. And I suggest you leave for the day boys. You’ve worked especially hard today, you deserve a good night’s rest.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>With that, they were ushered into the locker room. Nobody said anything as they changed and went their separate ways. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>When he and Iwa-chan were nearing their homes, he couldn’t help but ask with a little playful smirk, “You seriously thought they were dating?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Shut up.” Iwa-chan blushed profusely and grumbled, “They sure were acting like it, alright?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Tooru laughed heartily, “I think they just like making people uncomfortable for fun. And you </span>
  <em>
    <span>do</span>
  </em>
  <span> make an easy victim, with your lack of any practical knowledge on romance, Iwa-chan.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Iwaizumi tried swatting him like a fly, but he dodged in time. “That aside, you think he’ll agree to it?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He didn’t need to specify for Tooru to know he was asking about Sugawara. He shrugged, “I don’t know. I just hope I didn’t mess everything up.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Iwaizumi hummed affirmatively, “Well, you were being an asshole more than usual back then, why?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Because he would be perfect!” Tooru threw his arms up in surrender. “I mean, think about it. If we had someone like that at our backs, then we wouldn’t have to worry about anything! If I mess up, if I-, if the block reads me then I-, it would be reassuring, to know it’s not the end.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“So it is about your insecurities again after all,” Iwaizumi huffed in annoyance. “Goddamnit, we already talked about this Idiotkawa.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I know, I know, but still, it would be great.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>‘Also, I really don’t like seeing someone waste their effort on petty grudges,’</span>
  </em>
  <span> he thought, as they told each other goodbye on the next intersection.</span>
  <em>
    <span> ‘Cause it’s not about being a genius, natural born or whatever. He obviously put a lot of hard work into perfecting his receives like that.’</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He took the remaining two steps to his house and weighing the keys in one hand, he opened the door, throwing a loud “I’m home” despite no one being home yet, his mother working the night shift today.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>‘I just don’t understand why he would throw it all away like that.’</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>***</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Watching the minutes trickle slowly on his alarm clock, Suga felt personally insulted by his inability to fall asleep. It was already 2:30 a.m. and he was </span>
  <em>
    <span>so fucking tired</span>
  </em>
  <span>, but his mind just wouldn’t go to rest, choosing to plague him with memories after memories.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Whenever he closed his eyes, he was reliving that last inter middle school tournament, all in vivid color and sound.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>He fiddled with his fingers nervously as Kayo scrutinized him from head to toe, “You want to be a libero? Now, of all times?”</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Well, the team doesn’t have any,” he said, avoiding eye contact with his captain. “I mean, I know I can’t have the setter’s position back and I don’t want it, not really…”</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Everything about him screamed “lie, lie, lie”, but Suga forced himself to finish his sentence, “And I mean, it can’t do any bad right? If anything, it would be for the team’s benefit…”</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Kayo sighed deeply in disbelief, “Sugawara, we have a week until the beginning of the tournament, I don’t think this is the time-”</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“It doesn’t matter!” he cut in abruptly, regretting it as soon as he noticed Kayo’s irritated expression. “I mean, the libero’s plays are pretty independent - it doesn’t matter that I hadn’t practiced with the team as long as I lift the ball up, right? Also, you were probably going to assign someone the position anyway, so might as well go with me. You know my receives are good, a-and I practiced a lot!”</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>He seriously felt like a little child about to be scolded by their parents for doing something without permission. Suddenly, Kayo left without saying another word, going into the club room and closing the door. Suga could hear some rummaging before the captain returned, throwing a little package at him.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Suga fumbled a little, but caught it nonetheless. In the plastic wrapper was a neatly folded red uniform with a white number 11 on its back. A libero’s colors.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“This one should fit,” Kayo said offhandedly and went past him, probably to go back to the gym. He threw over his shoulder, “I’ll see you Monday,” and left, not giving Suga a second glance.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>He clenched the uniform in his palms tightly, hugging it to his chest. Now he just needed to check the buses and he was good to go.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Now that he looked at it, he should have noticed something was wrong when Kayo didn’t offer for them to go together. Sure, at that point Suga had been missing practice more often than not, but that was only so that he had more time at the rec center to work on his receives. Whenever he did come to practice, things were ranging from awkward to unpleasant, so he prefered not to go.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He really should have seen it coming.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>He came to the Gymnasium earlier than the rest of the team, taking the time to put on his new uniform in the restroom. He still felt a little giddy, filled with anticipation, because this was something new, something he never thought he would ever do, but…</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>It was bittersweet, really. He had to lose something in order to gain this novel feeling and he didn’t know whether he should like it or not. Nevertheless, Suga was determined to get back his place in the team - if it had to be as a libero, then so be it. </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>He just wanted to feel included yet again.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>He stood a little to the side when the team finally arrived and waited in the corridor when they were about to change. Nobody said anything to him, but that was fine, soon it wouldn’t be a problem. Their first match was about to start when Kayo beckoned him with a wave of his hand.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Suga came up to the captain hesitantly, his nervousness spiking up as he asked, “What’s wrong?”</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Nothing,” Kayo shrugged, making use of his height advantage to look down on Suga. “Just making sure you know what you’re doing. You better not mess this up Sugawara.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>He fiddled with his fingers, not quite looking at Kayo, but observing the rest of the team in his peripheral vision. Some were sending him nasty glares while others avoided eye contact with him whatsoever. Weirdly enough, it reassured him, so he took a deep breath and with certainty written all over his expression, he replied, “I know, I won’t.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Kayo nodded and as an afterthought, clapped him on the shoulder, “Cool. Now let’s go, we gotta line up.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>A beaming smile split his face, “Yeah.” </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>He was still smiling when the match began, channeling his enthusiasm into a streak of perfect receives, one after another. He felt on cloud nine every time he managed to recover a particularly tough one and a few hastily uttered “Nice receive,” from Kayo or other players only boosted his energy.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>‘I can get it all back,’ </span>
  <em>
    <span>he thought, throwing himself on the floor over and over again, rejoicing every time their plays connected and feeling frustrated when they didn’t.</span>
  </em>
  <span> ‘I can be a part of the team again.’</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Carrying on with the flow they won the first set and soon after, the second. For the first time since the beginning of Suga’s middle school volleyball career, they made it to the second match.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>He felt ecstatic.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>He practically jumped to his feet from where was sprawled on the floor after his final dive and made a move towards the other team members, “Hey-”</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Only to stop dead in his tracks seeing them huddled up together, cheering and patting each other’s backs a few feet away, not caring about Suga being there at all.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Without a doubt, he was the one who led them to this victory - but for his countless receives, they would’ve lost double the amount of points they gained. It was all his work, that their attacks didn’t end with the ball on the wrong side of the court, his palms scraping the floor, following with a dig after dig, tirelessly.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>But there was a clear line written between Suga and the team, like a giant chasm in the middle of the court. Kayo returned his betrayed gaze with a little shrug, as if to say, “It is what it is - nothing we can do about it,” and Suga realized.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>There was no longer a place for him to return to in this team - not as a setter, a libero or anyone else. In their eyes, he might as well not exist.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Perhaps it had never even been there at all.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Biting his lip in an attempt to ground himself with a little pain, Suga turned away, grabbed his bag from where it was left in the corner and left in a few quick strides, without glancing behind. He didn’t want to see his teammates celebrating their win there, without him, but his mind did a great job of providing him that image behind his closed eyelids regardless of his efforts.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>He made it to the toilet before the dam broke and he let himself cry, for the first time since everything started to go downhill.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>As the clock displayed 5:30 in bold, bright red letters, Suga gave up on trying to fall asleep, resigning himself to his misery. He turned off his alarm and covered himself head to toe with his comforter, hoping to find solace in the warmth or maybe just suffocate from it.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>When his mother came in to check on him, he feigned being sick so that she would let him stay at home, not feeling the strength to drag himself out of bed and into the mess he created.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He dreaded the moment when he would have to do it, eventually.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>***</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Sugawara didn’t come to practice the next day, and the day after that, and Tooru was</span>
  <em>
    <span> losing his mind.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It was all his fault, he was sure of that, all because he couldn’t wait for a bit and let his brain to mouth filter </span>
  <em>
    <span>actually</span>
  </em>
  <span> do its work like he should have, but </span>
  <em>
    <span>nooo- </span>
  </em>
  <span>He just needed to go and screw things up as usual.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He wanted to apologize, make up for his misplaced accusations wrapped in a colorful package of overconfidence and downright insulting wording, but with the way the silver-haired setter couldn’t be found absolutely </span>
  <em>
    <span>anywhere</span>
  </em>
  <span>, Tooru was starting to think he might actually never get the chance to do so.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Until, after practice on the third day of Sugawara’s absence, Makki came up to Tooru and said simply, “Wait for me,” before disappearing into the shower room.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What was that about?” Iwaizumi asked, fishing in his gym bag for a clean shirt and sweatpants.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No clue,” Tooru shrugged as he hurried to change as well, but after a little thought added, “though you might want to go home first, I think I’ll be coming late today.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You sure?” Hearing him hum a little affirmative noise, Iwaizumi replied, “Alright then. See you tomorrow,” grabbed his bag and left.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Having changed into his club’s tracksuit, Tooru plopped down on the bench and busied himself with his phone. Or rather, he pretended to do so, watching other members leave one by one as his thoughts were running a mile a minute in all sorts of different directions.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>‘Is he about to tell me off? No, he wouldn’t bother with making me wait just for this. Unless… he plans on settling this with fists? Oh my god, I shouldn’t have let Iwa-chan go-’</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Finally, after what felt like ages of theorizing, with every next one getting progressively more bizarre and downright ridiculous, Makki came out of the shower room alone. It suddenly dawned on Tooru that Mattsun wasn’t there - what’s more, he probably left even before Iwa-chan did. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>‘Now that’s weird,’</span>
  </em>
  <span> he mused as the pink-haired teen dug in his bag for a change of clothes, not sparing Tooru a single glance. </span>
  <em>
    <span>‘I thought for sure they’d gang up on me together.’</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Zipping up his jersey, Makki hauled his bag onto his shoulder and said a curt, “Let’s go,” leaving the room in few quick strides and Tooru in a baffled state. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“W-wait!” he jumped to his feet, almost forgetting about his bag and followed the pink-haired teen. He had to run in order to catch up to him. </span>
  <em>
    <span>‘Is he fucking human? Who walks that fast?’. </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They were nearing the school entrance when Tooru decided he had had enough of being in the dark. He cleared his throat pointedly, but the other teen didn’t pay him any mind as he went past the gate and turned right, the opposite direction from Tooru’s usual route back home.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Figuring he won’t get any answers unless he actually </span>
  <em>
    <span>asks</span>
  </em>
  <span>, Tooru gave in, “So… where are we going exactly?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The other teen hummed a non-committal noise before stating simply, “We’re gonna see Suga.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Tooru’s mouth opened and closed a few times, like a fish out of water, because </span>
  <em>
    <span>‘there’s just no way he would want to see me.’</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You’re right,” Makki said, making Tooru realize he had said that last one aloud. “- he’d probably prefer to never see you ever again if he could help it.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It seemed going out of his fish transformation would take a little more time than he initially assumed, “So then- Why are you- I mean, </span>
  <em>
    <span>why</span>
  </em>
  <span>?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The pink-haired teen looked at Tooru at last, leveling him with the most serious expression Tooru had ever seen on the usually laid-back boy, “Look, I’m not gonna pretend I like you-”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Tooru broke out of his trance and snorted, “Thank you, that is very much appreciated.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Just shut up for a moment.” Deciding it was way too intriguing to needlessly stall, Tooru complied, making the most exaggerated mouth-zipping motion and throwing the imaginary key over his shoulder. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Makki rolled his eyes in exasperation, “Anyway, you’re a douche-”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Ouch,” Tooru clutched at his chest in mock offendence. “Why are you all so mean to me?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Cause you deserve it,” sensing that Tooru was about to say something, the pink-haired teen quickly cut in, “-and don’t try to deny it, we all know it’s true.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Alright, alright,” Tooru pouted, sticking his bottom lip out slightly. “Are you going somewhere with this or did you drag me all the way here just to insult me? Where </span>
  <em>
    <span>exactly </span>
  </em>
  <span>are we even going anyway?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m trying, but you just wouldn’t shut up for a minute! Goddamnit you’re exasperating,” Makki sighed heavily and shook his head, as if to say ‘I am so done with this bullshit.’ </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“The thing is - I am still kinda pissed at you. Some things you said to Suga were too fucking far and </span>
  <em>
    <span>don’t</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” he leveled Tooru with a murderous look, “try to say otherwise.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Tooru had to avert his gaze - because really, how could he deny it? He was still mentally cursing himself over and over again for some of his words, so really, saying anything in this kind of situation would be hypocritical. And douche-y.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“But I guess I </span>
  <em>
    <span>kinda</span>
  </em>
  <span> get where you were coming from?” Tooru snapped his head up in surprise, eyes wide, making the other teen snort. “Don’t get your hopes up. It’s just that, the things you said after Suga left were um, </span>
  <em>
    <span>nice</span>
  </em>
  <span>? Kinda? I guess. And made much more sense than that previous nonsense about Suga being a liar and all.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Well, I mean,” Tooru interjected, “his receives </span>
  <em>
    <span>are</span>
  </em>
  <span> amazing, so- It’s pretty obvious he would make an even greater libero right?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“If only you’d said so from the beginning,” Makki stretched like a cat and folded his arms behind his head, “we would’ve avoided this whole shit-show in the first place. But that only proves my point.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Tooru scrunched his eyebrows and prompted, “Your point being-?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You gotta talk to him,” the pink-haired teen stated simply, and after a bit of thought added, “You remember how Suga was bitter about you not considering him a rival?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Tooru nodded. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Well that was kinda my concern from the beginning. Like, I was worried he wouldn’t even try to fight for the starting position as a setter. Cause he’s the kind of guy for whom volleyball means absolutely everything. And because of that, he would give up everything in order to make his team stronger.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“But that’s bullshit!” Tooru was completely baffled, “Sure it’s a team sport but there’s a limit to how much you can sacrifice for the team!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“My point exactly,” Makki agreed, “but Suga doesn’t necessarily see it that way. Or rather, he didn’t, and got screwed for it real badly.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Now everything made sense, “So he gave up being a setter cause he thought it would be better for the team?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Mhm,” Makki hummed affirmatively. “And got a real nice one-way ticket out in exchange. Without refund.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>‘This is seriously messed up,’</span>
  </em>
  <span> Tooru felt the cogs in his brain go into overdrive from how many thoughts were spinning in his head. </span>
  <em>
    <span>‘Now I get why he’s so hell-bent on being a setter.’</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Having collected himself, he asked aloud, “You think Sugawara sees becoming a libero as giving up?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“And an act of weakness, probably. His middle school team left a horrendous impression on him and I think he wants to prove both to them and himself that he could be someone substantial to the team. On top of that, he needs confirmation that his hard-work won’t all go to waste again.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“But he could easily have that as a libero,” Tooru pointed out. “Especially in our team, which is a known powerhouse - being a libero in a team that strong is a proof of one’s strength like any other.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, but so is being a setter.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Tooru couldn’t say anything to that. Hell, he knew from observing </span>
  <em>
    <span>himself</span>
  </em>
  <span> that sometimes, usually when under strong emotions, people’s hearing tended to gain a little selective turn. And if you have past experiences that could lead you into thinking along those few specific lines? </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Phrases like ‘filthy little liar’, ‘definitely not a genius’ and ‘glaring skill difference’ for sure got a nasty twist in Sugawara’s point of view. And ‘the team won’t have much use for you’?</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Tooru really dug his own grave with that one.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Okay, so what do you really want from me?” he asked Makki, still not quite grasping the situation. “He made himself pretty damn clear that he doesn’t want to be a libero. And even if he </span>
  <em>
    <span>could</span>
  </em>
  <span> consider switching, which I don’t think he would, I am most likely</span>
  <em>
    <span> the last person</span>
  </em>
  <span> he’d want to hear it from.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’d say it’s quite the opposite.” Seeing Tooru’s puzzled look, the pink-haired teen chuckled before explaining, “Maybe he wouldn’t want to hear it from ‘Oikawa Tooru his greatest enemy’,” he looked pointedly at Tooru, “but hearing it from ‘Oikawa Tooru the best setter in the prefecture’ is a different story.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Tooru tilted his head, “How so?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Suga might hate you but he still admires you as a setter,” Makki grinned and gave him a little wink, “and hearing from said star setter that he’d be ‘perfect for the position’ and it would be ‘reassuring to have someone like him at our backs’ would definitely paint a different picture, wouldn’t you say?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Tooru found himself nodding along in understanding before snapping his head in the other’s direction upon registering the last words, “Wait, how do you even know I said that?!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He was only with Iwaizumi at the time and there was no way the other teen could’ve overheard them, they were far away from school when they even started talking.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Defying any human limitations, Makki’s grin got even wider, “I mean, I was planning on making you clean your own mess, but I was totally sold on the idea when Iwaizumi came to me the other day and told me about that little bit.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Goddamnit Iwa-chan, why?” Tooru groaned loudly, making the other teen laugh. “Please tell me he didn’t tell you anything else.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Define ‘anything’,” assaulted by Tooru’s most lethal glare, Makki relented, “He just wanted to explain what his dumb friend was actually trying to say, nothing else. Oh, but he did apologize on your behalf. He’s a really great friend, that Iwaizumi.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Before he even realized it, they arrived at some kind of public rec center. As it was getting pretty late in the evening, Tooru could see a few people, possibly college students, exit. Suddenly he grew very unsure, </span>
  <em>
    <span>‘Why would Sugawara be here at this hour?’</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Sensing Tooru’s uncertainty, Makki raised an eyebrow, “What? I wouldn’t be surprised if he was here, when we went here together we were always the last one to leave.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Fine, but how can you know he’d be here in the first place?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The pink-haired teen just shrugged, “Call it a gut feeling or whatever, but I just know he wouldn’t survive without playing for a whole three days. He’d cave in sooner or later, since he loves volleyball probably more than we do.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>‘He sure cares for Mr.Refreshing, huh. And is a big softie and motherly towards him - just like Iwa-chan.’</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He smiled a little fondly at the other teen, “You are a great friend too, Makki.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, whatever,” he clasped Tooru’s shoulder tightly, “we’ll see if that’s true after you talk to him. So please, do me a favor and not piss him off so much that he’ll consider murdering me for dragging you here, alright?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Tooru chuckled softly, “Well, I can try.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You’d better. So,” he pushed Tooru towards the entrance, “go ahead and do your worst. But only </span>
  <em>
    <span>figuratively</span>
  </em>
  <span>, got it?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Tooru took a few steps forward, pausing right in front of the sliding doors. He refused to mess this up again, he refused to make Sugawara hate him even more. He was going to fix this and, if he was lucky, get himself the greatest asset on the court he could ask for.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Taking a deep breath to steady his raging emotions, he opened the door and stepped tentatively inside. </span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Listen to Makki, kids - if you don't cuddle with your friends platonically, then you're missing out on sonething great (and in our trio's case, totally full-homo :P)</p><p>Sorry for the delay, but both me and my beta had some pressing irl issues to tend to (if you call playing drunk board games a "pressing issue"... but I guess being sleep-deprived/mildly hungover can be counted as an excuse)</p><p>But that's only my sorry-ass case. My lovely beta, <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/alive_polish_fan">alive_polish_fan</a> wanted to tell you guys this: „The delay is all on me. I screwed up massively during the recrutation process and now I’m trying to find myself an apartment in another city while still working 6 days a week. Forgive me, it won’t happen again.”</p><p>Uni preparation are killing us both, but we will try not to make delays again or at least inform about them beforehand - most likely on my tumblr <a href="https://master-of-nyom.tumblr.com/">MasterOfNyom</a> which you can check out and ask me some questions, find some extra stuff (I am still looking for the promised players' rotation from the previous chapter) and read a little sneak preview posted a day prior to chapter release here on ao3!</p><p>Lastly, I want to thank you guys for all the lovely comments and encouragement I have received from you for these past 3 weeks - you're the best and I am super grateful to deliver you enjoyable content :D</p><p>MasterOfNyom, over and out!</p><p>Next time: important conversations, SugaMakki shenanigans and a little gay panic?</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Do It for Yourself</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>In which more flashbacks ensue, Oikawa sucks at words a little less and Suga makes an important decision.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Three days of staying at home doing nothing and Suga was losing his mind.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>To be fair though, most of the time he didn’t feel like doing </span>
  <em>
    <span>anything</span>
  </em>
  <span> in particular, holing himself up in his room and wallowing in self-pity. But eventually, it got to the point where he just couldn’t sit still in one place, despite feeling like absolute shit and decided to just fuck it and move already.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>So, after assuring his mom that </span>
  <em>
    <span>no</span>
  </em>
  <span>, he wasn’t feeling ill anymore and </span>
  <em>
    <span>yes</span>
  </em>
  <span>, he will be going to school tomorrow, he grabbed his gym bag and went to the rec center.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He would hate himself for closing that last remaining window of opportunity to escape later. For now, he just wanted to play some volleyball and unwind a little.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>For now, he wanted to pretend he didn’t have a problem at all.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Kiyoshi-san and the other regulars were happy to help him with receiving practice (the former visibly concerned about why Suga had needed it in the first place, now that the club activities had started, the latter not giving a shit as long as Suga agreed to set for them later). It proved to be exactly what he needed, throwing himself to the floor with reckless abandon helping Suga release some of his pent up stress from the last three days.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>(Later, he would question if that wasn’t exactly what Oikawa meant, but not for a little while.)</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>At least, he hoped so, but when everyone had already left, Suga remaining to brush up on his serves, he was greeted by that very same chocolate eyes, perfectly styled hair and slight smirk of the other setter. (Which, if he wasn’t so royally pissed, Suga would notice was more of a sheepish grin than a smirk.)</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What the hell are you doing here?” Suga spat out, crossing his arms defensively in front of his chest.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>To his credit, Oikawa’s smile </span>
  <em>
    <span>did</span>
  </em>
  <span> waver a bit seeing Suga’s hostile demeanor, but as quickly as his nonchalant façade crumbled, he built it back up, “Hello to you too, Mr.Refreshing. I wanted to talk to you for a bit. Is that alright?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No, it’s not,” Suga replied, relishing the minute flinch of the other setter, “so if you would kindly leave-”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Oikawa collected himself and laughed heartily, “Okay, alright, I walked right into that one. But really, I just wanted to apologize.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Suga raised an eyebrow in disbelief, “Did you now?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yeah! I admit, some of the things I said that day were just </span>
  <em>
    <span>awful</span>
  </em>
  <span>. But believe me when I say it, this was not my intention at all.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Suga felt conflicted. On one hand, Oikawa looked sincere, if a little playful still. But on the other hand, three days of beating himself over all the things that he had said didn’t leave Suga with a pleasant impression of the other.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>In the end, the more resentful part of him won, “Oh really? I find that quite hard to believe.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Oikawa sighed in defeat, “Yeah, I expected as much. I don’t know if it’ll make you feel better, but your friend has already given me quite an earful, so… Frankly, I’m surprised I walked out of that conversation in one piece.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You talked to Makki?” Suga tilted his head in thought. He could see that - his pink-headed friend had most likely lashed out at the other setter like a lioness trying to protect their cub or whatever. It was quite a mental image, so much so that Suga let himself linger on it.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Uh-huh, after you left,” Oikawa’s voice snapped him out of thought, “I mean, we were shouting so loud even the coaches got involved. Oh, and they asked me to tell you to consider switching to libero, you know?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Suga’s palms clenched tightly into fists. Through gritted teeth, he asked, “What did you tell them?”</span>
  <span></span>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <span>Oikawa must have sensed Suga’s bubbling anger, as he shuffled on his feet nervously, “Well, they’ve heard the part about you having played as a libero before and asked me and Makki for clarification. They’ve apparently considered making you switch too, after the match that is. So I told them about your match I saw in middle school and I gotta say, they were pretty impressed!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Well that’s just </span>
  <em>
    <span>wonderful</span>
  </em>
  <span>, but sadly, I do not want to give up being a setter, so if that’s all, you can leave and tell the coaches just that.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Suga was running out of patience at an alarming speed and he didn’t know if he could keep himself from acting out much longer.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>To his chagrin, Oikawa didn’t seem to be finished in the slightest, “See, that’s the part I don’t understand. Why do you resent the idea so much? And more importantly, why didn’t you tell that pink-headed friend of yours, hm? Cause I get that you might not want to explain yourself to people like me or the coaches, but he’s supposedly your best friend, right? So why wouldn’t you share that part with him?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And just like that, Suga’s mental restraints snapped, “I don’t need to tell you shit, Oikawa! This is entirely not your business, so keep your nose out of it!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He felt heat prickling under his skin, spreading all over his body to the point of being excruciating. Oikawa could say whatever he wanted about Suga - it would still hurt, but he’ll deal with it. By saying that, however, he was also partially insulting and discrediting Makki and that was something Suga </span>
  <em>
    <span>couldn’t</span>
  </em>
  <span> stand.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It seemed Oikawa realized his mistake too, as he raised both of his hands in front of him, palms up in a placating manner, “Whoa, whoa, hold your horses Mr.Refreshing-”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And went about soothing Suga’s anger in the </span>
  <em>
    <span>absolute worst</span>
  </em>
  <span> way, “My </span>
  <em>
    <span>name</span>
  </em>
  <span> is Suga! If you want to insult me and worst of all, my friends, give me a favor and express this little bit of human decency and at least </span>
  <em>
    <span>try</span>
  </em>
  <span> to remember it!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I know your goddamn name!” Oikawa’s sudden shout startled Suga. They have talked the entirety of three times, two of which ended up in a full-blown argument and never before had Suga seen the other setter abandon his playfully sarcastic, but overall calm persona.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Sugawara Koushi,” he started a little out of breath, as if that one scream took the majority of his energy, “from Nagamushi Junior High. You have a locker right next to mine, you’re friends with Matsukawa and Hanamaki. You’re usually cheerful and polite, but you have this weird mischievous streak that sometimes makes you hard to read. You switch between the two effortlessly, which confuses the shit out of me.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>For the first time since Oikawa stepped into the rec center, it was Suga who found himself at a loss, “Wha-?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>As if he hadn’t heard him, Oikawa continued with his rant, “You toss just like you speak - kindly and reserved. It’s what usually makes your plays easy to counter. But sometimes, you do something extraordinary, which screams of endless practice you must’ve put into mastering those few moves.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He had to stop in order to take a deep breath, having said all that in rapidfire speed, “You’re probably the best libero I’ve ever seen play, aside from that tiny guy from Chidoriyama we played last year, but he won a goddamn </span>
  <em>
    <span>award</span>
  </em>
  <span> for fucks sake. I got fucking </span>
  <em>
    <span>mesmerized</span>
  </em>
  <span> when I saw you at that time, though I was also low-key concerned that you’ll hurt yourself with how recklessly you were acting.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Oikawa paused and looked Suga straight in the eye, his expression probably the most serious Suga had ever seen, “And do you know, what I said then?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Suga blinked in confusion, not sure if he was supposed to reply or not. In the end, he chose to exclaim cautiously, “No-?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I said, ‘in any other team, this guy could be a star’ and Iwa-chan was like ‘mhm, most definitely’ and </span>
  <em>
    <span>that</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” he pointed an accusatory finger at Suga, “is why I cannot understand why you would waste that kind of raw skill and determination for the sake of fighting for a setter’s position, when libero would suit you way better!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Oikawa was heaving in frustration and </span>
  <em>
    <span>‘seriously, did that guy forget to breathe or what?’</span>
  </em>
  <span> More importantly, Suga couldn’t understand, why was the other setter phrasing it like that? He couldn’t imagine himself as that seemingly amazing person - it was as if Oikawa was talking about someone completely different.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Or as if he had seen an utterly different match.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You haven’t seen the entirety of that match, have you?” he asked, finally piecing it all together.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It would make sense, because if he had seen their loss during their second match then he wouldn’t be so confused as to why Suga didn’t want to be a libero so much. And maybe, he would understand.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What? What does that have to do with anything?” Suga only kept staring at him expectantly and it seemed Oikawa finally got the hint. “No I-, my own match was about to start so I couldn’t stay. I think I was there until halfway into the second set? Maybe.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“The last point was the most important,” just saying it left a bitter taste in Suga’s mouth, but there was something else that didn’t feel quite right. After a little thought, he added, “Though I guess it still might have looked different from your perspective.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Oikawa tilted his head questioningly, “What do you mean by that?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It kind of surprised Suga how quickly they went from exchanging fake pleasantries to shouting to </span>
  <em>
    <span>this. </span>
  </em>
  <span>In any other situation, he’d think of it as funny, maybe laugh a bit at the ridiculousness of it all but now, he was just tired. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He no longer cared about the pretense, he just wanted to be over and done with this mentally-draining rollercoaster.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“That ‘recklessness and determination’, as you described it, might have looked amazing or even admirable from the bleachers, but it sure didn’t feel like that down on the court.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Suga let the silence linger after that sentence, feeling a little like a magician, casting the spell on an unsuspecting public. But just like with real magicians, those spells were nothing more than illusion - a diversion used to conceal trickery happening in broad daylight.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You probably know this feeling,” Oikawa jolted at that, as if thrown out of some kind of trance Suga’s words put him in, “when you know you’re probably gonna lose the match, when you can practically see it coming, but fight tooth and nail to change it regardless? That kind of fighting spirit and desperation?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Well, yeah,” the other setter nodded, “during a match nobody admits defeat and just stops playing. Until the ball touches the court, the match is still going and everything can happen.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Exactly. It’s one of the reasons I love volleyball so much,” he gave a little smile, but it was far from pleasant. Bitter, yes. Sarcastic, maybe. “During that match though, there was no such team spirit. Everyone gave up. And I hated that I was the only one fighting, the only one trying.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>He managed to collect himself enough not to seem visibly shaken when he joined the team again before the second match began. Since the first point though, the difference in strength and skill was apparent. Suga knew they had absolutely no chance of winning this - normally, he wouldn’t let himself be this pessimistic, but this time, he couldn’t help himself.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>After all, everyone else seemed to have noticed it too and reacted accordingly. And by ‘reacted’ he meant ‘went downhill’.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>With just a few minutes into the first set having passed, the other team was able to build a considerable lead. Morale was falling down like an avalanche - soon enough, they would give up on trying, as their frustration grew because of their plays being countered one after the other. There was nothing Suga could do to help.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>But he just couldn’t be the kind of person to go down without a fight.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>He was sure he’ll remember this day as the absolute worst day of his life. He didn’t want to add to the endless pool of bitterness. He didn’t want to look back on this day and remember it as a day that he gave up on playing.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>No matter how much he hated this team now, how much hurt he felt, he still loved volleyball the same. If this match was going to end in a loss, there was one thing he could still do.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Make goddamn sure it won’t end with his mistake.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>So Suga threw himself on the floor over and over again, saving probably as many balls as he’d missed. They would still hate him after their loss - no matter how many times he’d stop the other team from scoring, in the end his team would find it not enough. But Suga refused to be the one responsible for the final point. He wouldn’t give them that one more reason to hate him too many.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>As life would have it though, fate was not on his side. All too soon, it was their opponent’s match point, a rally gone wrong getting easily turned into a counterattack. Kayo was jumping to block the incoming spike - he even tried to grab the other player to extend the wall created with their hands.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>That little first-year was their undoing - he didn’t jump in time, which created a window of opportunity for the spiker, who squeezed the ball in, brushing it on their kouhai’s fingertips. He didn’t aim too far - a little closer than the 3rd meter, but it was enough. The back-row players were expecting a stronger kill, nobody was up front.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Suga rushed into a dive, stretching out his left arm as it was closer, palm down to the floor. He felt sharp pain coming off of his forearm, but didn’t pay it mind at a time, focusing on the ball and a desperate plea of ‘</span>
  </em>
  <span>please, don’t let it be the last one, please, just one more.’</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Suddenly, the light in the gymnasium was too bright, his body heavy like lead, while his head felt like it was floating in a subspace far away from here.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>The sound of the ball falling to the floor, mere inches from his palm, was deafening.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>After that, it was way too quiet. Suga didn’t even remember when he got up for the congratulatory bow. Before he realized it, he was standing alone, blood running down his left arm - he must have hurt himself somehow during that last attempted safe. One more shitty reminder of how spectacularly he failed.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>The next day, he took his remaining possessions from his locker in the clubroom and filed an official resignation.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Suga rubbed his forearm absentmindedly, feeling the slight bumpiness of the thin white scar he got from that day. He looked at Oikawa, maintaining eye contact for a few minutes, before saying with a strained little smile, “I felt fucking miserable.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>***</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Tooru was blown away, and not in a good sense of that phrase. The longer Sugawara spoke, the more he understood, but the more he was certain the other setter was about to cry.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And he was </span>
  <em>
    <span>still</span>
  </em>
  <span> talking.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Volleyball is a team sport,” it was a fact, but Sugawara said it like it was something not so obvious, “so no player can win the match on their own. Everyone has to work together in order to win, every play must connect, every team member must be supported.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>There was that sad smile again and Tooru’s heart clenched painfully, sensing what Sugawara’s next words would be, “Nobody supported me. I did everything for that team - I gave up my starting position as a setter, handed off vice-captaincy like it was no big deal. I quite literally poured my blood, sweat and tears during that last InterHigh, but it was all for nothing.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Sugawara stretched out his left arm. For a moment, Tooru couldn’t grasp what the other wanted for him to do, until he noticed a thin white line, running all the way from his elbow down to his mid-forearm. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Match point for the other team - a failed block resulted in a faint. The floor must have been splintered a little - I probably dragged my arm right through it. I didn’t notice at first and neither did any of my supposed teammates.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Was it Tooru’s imagination, or did Sugawara’s voice waver a little? Sure enough, the other boy was crying now, “I wanted to get my place back, I wanted to be a part of the team again. But there was never anything like that, not for me. They left me there bleeding, like it was nothing, like I was never there!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I- uhm, I’m-” Tooru really didn’t know what to say. Now he understood perfectly, what Makki meant by ‘he got screwed for it real badly’ when talking about doing things for the team’s benefit. He practically sacrificed himself </span>
  <em>
    <span>whole</span>
  </em>
  <span> and didn’t receive any form of consideration whatsoever.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Tooru was feeling really sick in the stomach just </span>
  <em>
    <span>thinking</span>
  </em>
  <span> about it.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’ve seen your match too, you know? Just after that disaster of a game.” Tooru was getting progressively more upset and he didn’t know how to stop the words coming from Sugawara’s mouth, knowing he probably needed them more than Tooru did to understand. “And I figured if I were as strong as you, nobody would even </span>
  <em>
    <span>think</span>
  </em>
  <span> of replacing me.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Sugawara took a deep breath then, trying and failing to calm himself, “That’s why I need to be a setter, I need to beat you. If I do, no one would question my worth for the team, no one would turn his back on me and no one would leave my side on the court. Because I’m sick of being left behind!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“You think Sugawara sees becoming a libero as giving up?”</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“And an act of weakness, probably. [...]...he needs confirmation that his hard-work won’t all go to waste.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“I’m sick of being left behind!”</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>His incapability of forming non-insulting words being damned for now, Tooru knew </span>
  <em>
    <span>exactly</span>
  </em>
  <span> what to say.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Sugawara was shaking with the force of his sobs, looking like an absolute </span>
  <em>
    <span>wreck</span>
  </em>
  <span>, like he was about to keel over and never get up. Tooru took a few tentative steps towards the other teen and placed both hands upon his shoulders. He hunched a little to look Sugawara in the eyes and said softly, “Hey hey, shh, it’s alright. I get it, but listen, Suga-chan- Oh right, can I call you Suga-chan?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It was the first time he had asked someone before calling them a nickname. Usually he just didn’t give a damn, which more often than not resulted in him offending other people. Seeing the silver-haired teen nod meekly made him feel some sort of weird fluttery sensation that he filed away for further investigation later.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>For now though, he continued in a quiet voice, “Okay then, Suga-chan. The way I see it, you’re afraid that if you give up on being a setter </span>
  <em>
    <span>this time</span>
  </em>
  <span>, it would be the same as in middle school, right?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>A minute nod was all the confirmation he got, but he decided to roll with it, “But it won’t be the same at all, you know? Cause back then, you were forced to throw away those things yeah? And now, the team doesn’t ask because they want to get rid of you - it’s because the team needs your help, Suga-chan!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Suga sniffled then, which looked equally as heart-wrenching as adorable. His big, chestnut eyes were still shining with tears when he finally looked up at Tooru and asked, “What do you mean by that?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Instead of replying, Tooru removed his hands from Suga’s shoulders, took a little step back and plopped down on the floor, indicating for Suga to do the same. Maybe it was mean of him to say, considering the fact that Suga was at most ten centimetres shorter than him, but Tooru felt like he was looking at a baby deer, the way he was swaying on his feet and shaking all over.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>If all it took to reduce him to that state was a memory, then it must be a damn awful one, alright.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>When Suga followed him and sat down, hugging his knees to his chest and resting his head on top of them, Tooru scooted a little closer and took his hands in his own. He was a little surprised when the silver-haired setter let him do as he pleased, not quite believing they were sitting in the middle of the gym and having such a heartfelt conversation. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>‘To think we were at each other’s throats just a few minutes ago,’</span>
  </em>
  <span> he mused as he started rubbing small circles on Suga’s palms absentmindedly.</span>
  <em>
    <span> ‘Unbelievable.’</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What I mean is that everyone was super impressed with your receives you know? Coach Irihata said that it would be of great help if you decided to switch positions. Even Mizoguchi agreed, you know? And he was all pleasant about it!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Suga-chan snorted weakly, “Well, I’m not the one who usually starts the trouble, I just get caught in the middle of it, so I guess he doesn’t dislike me as much?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Probably. But what’s important, is that nobody wants to force you to do anything! It is just something for you to consider.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“But wouldn’t it be better for the team if I switched?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>‘There he goes again, doing everything for the team’s benefit. The club activities started not even two weeks ago!’</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Well, probably,” he said instead, not missing the slight hunch of the silver-haired teen’s shoulders. “Asa-chan-senpai would graduate this year and that would leave us with only that second year, Kaneda-or-something.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Kanzaki,” Suga-chan supplied helpfully, to which Tooru tutted, “Yeah, that god-awful libero. Can you even imagine what our defence would look like if he was the core of it?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Suga pretended to consider it for a bit and from that Tooru knew that the other was already feeling better, “A disaster.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Damn straight,” he agreed. He needed to choose his next words carefully, not wanting to pressure the other into anything. He made Suga pretty vulnerable without adding much to it - he was kind of honoured for being allowed to see Suga like this, the silver-haired setter not shying away from his proximity and finally, </span>
  <em>
    <span>at last</span>
  </em>
  <span>, having a decent conversation with him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>‘God, making it to this point was an absolute pain.’</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“So yeah, like Irihata-sensei said, it would surely be of great help to the team. But they didn’t suggest the idea just because it would be better for the team - they thought it would be better for you too!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Suga’s eyes widened in surprise and </span>
  <em>
    <span>‘oh got, can he get even more adorable? What is this?’</span>
  </em>
  <span>, “For me?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Now, Tooru was pretty sure Makki was still lurking somewhere around the rec center, listening in on their conversation like an absolute </span>
  <em>
    <span>creep</span>
  </em>
  <span>. He didn’t want to give that pink-haired menace any possible blackmail material but… it couldn’t be helped. He made Suga so vulnerable it was only fair he poured his own heart out in turn at least a little bit.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>So pouring his heart out he did, “I’m not an all-powered genius either, you know? I always hated guys like Ushiwaka-chan who were so goddamn talented like it was nothing, without much effort. Cause no matter how hard you work, how much you train, you can’t match with natural talent just like that. So I know I can, and probably will mess up sometimes.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He knew he had Suga’s undivided attention now, the other not quite understanding what Tooru was getting at, “And if that ‘sometimes’ causes my team to lose then I- I get scared, you know? Cause I wanna win, I want to prove that even those not blessed by god, mother nature or whatever - that those people can be the best too.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It was probably the most frequent of his nightmares - every time he lost, he would dream of failing, of being the reason for his team’s failure. It was also why he so frequently tried to overwork himself, to the point that Iwa-chan had to sometimes drag him home, so that he wouldn’t ‘get injured because of his own stupidity’, as his friend liked to call it.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What I’m trying to say is - it would help me a lot, if I had someone like you there - someone so  amazing, who’d be able to cover for my own mistakes. So that’s why I- I came to you that day, but I guess… I didn’t phrase it that well, did I?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No, not really,” Suga agreed and Tooru was happy to see him almost back to his usual self. “Then again, I wasn’t exactly pleasant to talk to either.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Haha, true,” Tooru let out a little laugh, “but I was more concerned about whether I accidently made you hate me forever or not.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Would it be a shame if you did?” Suga smirked playfully and Tooru was happy to oblige him with playing along.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Of course! I wouldn’t receive a nickname from you if I did, right? I heard you are the author of those cutesy ones you call your friends with and I gotta say, that’s some quality work you’ve done. Oikawa approves.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Is that so?” Suga mused, before that little devilish smile that Tooru unknowingly came to enjoy seeing resurfaced. “Do you think you’re worthy of one though?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’d better be - I came all the way here to receive one after all!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Suga giggled breathily, which Tooru immediately decided he loved the sound of, his mind filling with thoughts of </span>
  <em>
    <span>‘More. Make him do it more.’</span>
  </em>
  <span> He didn’t quite understand it himself, but decided now was not the time to dawdle on it too much.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I can’t think of any good one though,” Suga pouted, but after a while his face lit up again, “but I can just call you Tooru - if you want I guess.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Oh. There was that fluttery feeling again. </span>
  <em>
    <span>‘What the fuck?’</span>
  </em>
  <span> Tooru was grateful he couldn’t see his own expression right now - he was sure he was blushing like crazy.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Suddenly, he became all too aware of the fact that he was still holding Suga’s hands, his mind only now deciding that it’s a little bit awkward. He forced himself not to take them away though and smiled widely instead, “Sure thing. I got no problem with that.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>‘Except I kind of do and-’</span>
  </em>
  <span> he averted his gaze and was unfortunately met with a sight of a window and “Oh god, it’s so fucking late now, I should probably go.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Maybe it was Tooru’s eyes playing a trick on him again, because he could swear Suga looked a little dejected for a moment. It was so short though, he couldn’t be sure and all too soon Suga’s warm hands were leaving his own, the silver-haired teen shifting to sit cross-legged. “Yeah, probably. You can go ahead, I’ll stay here for a little while longer.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Tooru paused midway in standing up. “You sure?” he asked and after receiving an affirmative hum got up properly. He wiped his palms on his sweatpants and suddenly thought of something, “Oh right, I want to ask for a little favor.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Suga tilted his head in interest, “What is it?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Assuming a more serious expression, he replied, “Could you promise me you’ll come to practice tomorrow? You don’t need to think about what the coaches asked - in fact, forget about it at all! Just - come, okay?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Suga’s expression was unreadable, so Tooru added as an afterthought, “After all, now that we’re kind of friends too, you need to tell me how you managed to make Iwa-chan believe you and Makki were dating. That’s the story I’m absolutely </span>
  <em>
    <span>dying</span>
  </em>
  <span> to know.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>There was that breathy giggle again and Tooru got his confirmation that</span>
  <em>
    <span> ‘yep, his smiles really are contagious’.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Alright,” the silver-haired teen agreed after a while. “I promise. But now you should really go, I don’t want to keep you here so late.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It’s fine,” Tooru shrugged, but he did take a few steps towards the door. With a hand on the sliding door, he turned and flashed the other teen a bright smile, “Oh and Suga-chan? If you </span>
  <em>
    <span>do</span>
  </em>
  <span> make a decision just remember - you don’t have to do anything for anyone’s benefit. Do it for yourself, okay?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Mhm,” he waved. “See you tomorrow, Tooru.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“See you tomorrow, Suga-chan!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He still had that smile plastered on his face when he slid the doors closed behind himself. Which was quickly replaced by a frown when he saw Makki grinning at him like a cat that had caught the canary.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’ll admit, I wanted to strangle you right then and there at the beginning, but now I gotta say,” he slapped Tooru heartily on the shoulder, “nice job, pretty boy.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Tooru’s frown turned even more sour at that, “If you ever try and use it against me then</span>
  <em>
    <span> I </span>
  </em>
  <span>will strangle </span>
  <em>
    <span>you</span>
  </em>
  <span>, is that clear?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Makki’s grin got even wider as he shrugged, “Can’t promise anything, sorry.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Tch,” Tooru tutted and made a beeline out of there, ignoring the pink-haired teen’s snickering entirely. He was feeling significantly lighter - apparently, that argument with Suga-chan put a lot more strain on him than he initially thought. He was practically skipping, humming some nonsensical tune under his nose until he stopped abruptly in terror.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He didn’t remember how to get back to school, not having paid attention on their way to the rec center.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>‘Shit.’</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>***</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>As soon as Tooru’s footsteps became inaudible, Suga sighed deeply and called out, “Alright Makki, I know you’re there - get your ass in here.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>As if on cue, his friend walked in, sporting the most shit-eating grin he could manage, “How long did you know I was there?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Not from the beginning if that’s what you’re asking,” Suga shrugged as Makki lied down unceremoniously next to him, folding his arms into a pillow. “But I did notice you opening the door slightly and peeking through.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The pink-haired teen hummed lightly, “Well, I needed to be on stand-by - you know, so that I could strangle Oikawa or help you do it, if necessary.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Suga snorted, lying down as well, with his head perched up on Makki’s chest, face turned to look at his friend, “You dragged him here yourself, didn’t you?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yep,” he said, popping the ‘p’ in his usual manner, “Darling Mattsun offered to help too, but I figured if things went too far south, you wouldn’t want to have too many witnesses. But I guess you got that covered, huh.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Just thinking about it made Suga want to curl up at die, preferably somewhere where no one would find him and know about his giant embarrassment of an evening. Not only had he shouted at Oikawa like there was no tomorrow, he went full-blown on confession time and broke down crying in the middle of it! And don’t even get him started on the </span>
  <em>
    <span>hand-holding.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He groaned loudly, burying his face further in Makki’s chest, “Please, tell me it wasn’t as gay as I think it was.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I dunno,” Makki patted his shoulder reassuringly, “but I think </span>
  <em>
    <span>‘Tooru’</span>
  </em>
  <span> was having as much of an internal crisis as you were, I’m just not sure if he realized it.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Urgh, I wanna die, Makki…” he whined, punching his friend’s chest lightly. Apparently it felt more like tickling than it actually hurt, because Makki started jostling around and squirming, somehow moving Suga flush on top of him at some point.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They laid there for a while in silence, before Suga mumbled something unintelligible into Makki’s shirt. “You gotta speak up angel, cause I can’t hear you.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The silver-haired teen sighed, “I asked, aren’t you mad at me?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Makki stared down at him puzzled, “What for?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You know,” Suga averted his gaze, “because I didn’t tell you. And uh-”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“If you’re beating himself over that shit Oikawa said at the beginning, you can stop right there.” Noticing Suga didn’t look the slightest bit convinced, he added, “Also, give me a little more credit - I can read between the lines just fine, thank you.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Suga’s head shot up in surprise, eyes wide as he said, “You mean you knew?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Nah, but I figured it would be something like this. When I said your receives were </span>
  <em>
    <span>godly,</span>
  </em>
  <span> I wasn’t joking, alright? I really think so.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Stop it, you’re making me blush.” He really didn’t want to know how his face looked right now - blushing definitely didn’t make it seem like  less of an absolute mess. On the off-hand, he asked, “Do you think I should switch to libero too?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Makki just shrugged - how he managed to do it while lying on the floor with Suga’s entire weight pinning him down, he didn’t now, “This isn’t about what I think, or anyone else for that matter, it’s your decision. I can just tell you this - I know you’ll be an amazing player either way.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He didn’t say anything else, letting that last statement sink in. Honestly, Suga wasn’t sure what he wanted to do. He was sure he’d miss this feeling only a setter could understand - when the play you orchestrated went through exactly as planned, the frustration on the opponent’s faces, it was indescribable. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>But on the other hand, he liked the heaviness of the ball as it made contact with his forearms too. The way he had to time his approach and maintain a correct form, lest it escaped into the sidelines. How he could contain the force of the strongest attacks, how it left his opponents in various states ranging from irritation to pure resentment.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Huh. It seemed he </span>
  <em>
    <span>did </span>
  </em>
  <span>know what he wanted to do after all.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Coming to that conclusion, he smiled softly and said, “You know I think I-”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Goddamnit</span>
  </em>
  <span> Shittykawa, can’t you do anything on your own?!” Iwaizumi came barreling into the rec center. “What the hell are you even doing he-?! Huh?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Suga was having a huge </span>
  <em>
    <span>deja vu</span>
  </em>
  <span>, seeing the spiky-haired teen’s face flit to an impressive </span>
  <em>
    <span>maroon</span>
  </em>
  <span> in mere seconds and then back to white as a sheet. Which looked particularly concerning, considering his normally tanned complexion.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“That,” Makki pointed out, “is something</span>
  <em>
    <span> I</span>
  </em>
  <span> should be asking </span>
  <em>
    <span>you</span>
  </em>
  <span>, Iwaizumi.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Um- I-uh, I… got a... text from Oikawa,” he started cautiously, stuttering like crazy, “He said you dragged him to some public rec center and now he didn’t know how to get back.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Makki’s chest was heaving with laughter, jostling Suga who suddenly realized what position they were in - him, lying on top of Makki’s chest with hands clutching his shirt tightly, their legs twined together in a jumbled mess. Sometime during their previous squirming one of Makki’s hands moved to support Suga from falling over, now resting snugly on the small of his back.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>A perfectly platonic display. Uh huh. No homo.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I can’t fucking believe it!” Makki wiped a tear from the corner of his eye with his other hand - the one not currently holding Suga </span>
  <em>
    <span>possessively.</span>
  </em>
  <span> “He ain’t here though - left a while ago and didn’t come back.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I can totally see that,” Iwaizumi deadpanned and Suga wasn’t sure if he meant that he could see that Tooru was </span>
  <em>
    <span>not there</span>
  </em>
  <span> or that he could see the reason why he </span>
  <em>
    <span>left</span>
  </em>
  <span>. He groaned and buried his face in Makki’s shirt - not knowing he wasn’t helping the image </span>
  <em>
    <span>at all.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Need any help finding him?” Makki proposed, but the other teen shook his head, “Nah, I can probably do it on my own. By the way, nice to see you again Sugawara.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Suga mumbled, “Nice to see you too, Iwaizumi-kun,” not moving from his position - deeming the case to be already lost.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Right, so I-,” Iwaizumi coughed to relieve the strain from his voice - needless to say, he failed, sounding more and more like a strangled cat, “I think I’ll go now. Bye!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He fled the scene and slammed the door shut in the blink of an eye. Suga seriously didn’t know whether he wanted to sigh or smile at the display, but Makki made this decision for him as he wheezed, “Did you </span>
  <em>
    <span>fucking</span>
  </em>
  <span> see his </span>
  <em>
    <span>face</span>
  </em>
  <span>? He looked like he was having a </span>
  <em>
    <span>stroke</span>
  </em>
  <span>!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Suga snorted, “Yeah, he probably had one to be honest.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Makki’s aggravated reaction was his undoing and soon they were both flailing on the floor with laughter, their totally-not-platonic position finally resolved.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They were still catching their breath when Suga sighed, “Ahh~, poor Iwaizumi-kun, at this rate we’ll probably leave him mentally scarred for the rest of his life.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“And what a great feat it would be,” Makki nodded sagely. “Let’s make it our life-goal, shall we?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Makki really had this uncanny ability to know what Suga needed at times - when he wanted to be reassured, when to laugh his nerves away and when to just stay still and bask in the comfortable silence and their close proximity. Here, lying on the floor of the gym center, joking around like usual, like nothing else mattered, Suga remembered a little detail about that day he had almost forgotten.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>A little sweet something in the flood of bitterness it turned into.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You, know, now that I think about it, there was this guy who talked to me after that match ended.” Makki cracked one eye open, visibly interested, so Suga added, “He was a second-year, I think? From Chidoriyama.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>His head hung limply between his knees. Everything was spinning and Suga struggled to calm his breathing and that infuriating ringing in his ears. His fingers tangled in silvery locks and grabbed forcefully, in an attempt to ground himself. All to no avail.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Someone was tapping his shoulder, “Hey, are you alright?”</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Slowly, he lifted his head and blinked, eyes re-adjusting to the brightness of the gymnasium. In front of him crouched a short, spiky-haired teen in a dark blue uniform. He had one streak of hair bleached blond and his sharp, hawk-like eyes were currently laced with worry. Suga’s attention though, was focused solely on the name of the school he could see on the boy’s shirt.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Chidoriyama.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Oh my god I’m so sorry,” he scrambled to get on his feat, realizing that the other teams were starting their warm-ups and he was still there, sitting next to the entrance, his bag thrown haphazardly to the corner. “I must have spaced out a little. Here I’ll just-” he made a move to grab his bag but swayed a little.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>The other teen helped Suga steady himself, letting him lean on his much smaller frame. Only then Suga noticed just how much shorter the spiky-haired boy was than himself - he didn’t look much taller than 5 feet.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Suddenly, those sharp eyes blew wide in bewilderment as he grabbed Suga’s left wrist and pulled towards himself. “Hey what are you-?”</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“You’re bleeding,” he said, pointing at Suga’s left forearm, which was practically </span>
  </em>
  <span>drenched</span>
  <em>
    <span> in blood. Some of it got even on his knees and shorts, though those were red to begin with, so the stain wasn’t that noticeable.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Oh,” Suga exclaimed in surprise. “It’s not that bad. I’ll just go take care of it and- Hey-!”</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Before he could even finish, the other boy was dragging him towards the bench occupied by a middle-aged man and another, who looked to be a university student. Presumably his coaches.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Coach!” sure enough, the elder of the two turned around at the teens booming voice. How such a loud voice could fit into such a small body, Suga didn’t know. “We need your help - he’s bleeding like crazy!”</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“I’m fine, really,” Suga tried to break free from the crushing grip on his wrist, but wasn’t able to. </span>
  </em>
  <span>‘Seriously, how can this guy be so strong?!’ </span>
  <em>
    <span>“I can take care of this myself.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“I don’t think so, son. Now sit here,” the coach patted the empty space on the bench and rummaged through a sports bag lying next to it, pulling out a first-aid kit. “Show me your arm.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Suga shifted nervously from one foot to the other, “Really, I’m fine, I can just go. I wouldn’t want to be an inconvenience…”</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“You aren’t and you certainly won’t be,” he looked at Suga expectantly, the same look mirrored on the spiky-haired teen’s face. Seeing that there’s no way he could win this battle, Suga sighed and sat gingerly on the offered space, reluctantly extending his left arm and mumbling a little, “I’m sorry.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Which apparently the coach heard just fine, because he asked, “What for?” as he took Suga’s wrist gently in one hand and started wiping the blood off with the other. </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Just- I’m sorry,” whatever else he might have wanted to say got lost in a hiss, as he felt the sting from the disinfectant being applied bite into his fractured skin.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“How’d you get hurt like this anyway? Shit looks nasty,” asked the spiky-haired teen. It seemed he refused to leave Suga’s side, despite his team doing warm-up. He looked up at Suga mid-stretch, those sharp eyes inquisitive and still a little worried.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“I’d also like to know,” the coach chimed in, rummaging in the first-aid kit for some bandages. “The cut is pretty deep - it will probably leave a scar.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“I’m not sure,” Suga struggled to remember, “I think it’s from my final dive, when I tried to do a block follow. Maybe there was something on the floor.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“That isn’t good,” the coach frowned and paused in wrapping Suga’s arm snugly to call out, “Ikeda-kun!”</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>The university student who had been coordinating the players’ warm-up uptil now, approached them, “What is it, sensei?”</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“I need you to talk to the referees. It seems the court might be damaged - they need to inspect it and make sure nobody else gets hurt.” After the other man left, the coach mumbled, “It’s high time they renovated this place. I swear it’s only held together by willpower and prayer alone.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>He finished bandaging Suga and patted his arm lightly, “There, all done. Though I highly suggest you see a doctor about this - as I said, the cut is quite deep, it may require some stitches. And for god’s sake, eat something kid. You look like death warmed-over, you need to replenish your energy.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Thank you very much,” Suga stood up and bowed politely, earning a dismissive wave from the coach and a very enthusiastic, “Will you stay to see the match?” from the spiky-haired teen.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>He pondered it for a moment before replying, “Sure, why not.” He pointed at the bleachers and added, “Though I should probably go up there. And you should probably do a proper warm-up.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Nah, I’ll be fine. I’ve done plenty,” the spiky-haired teen shrugged, though his confidence wavered under the scrutiny of his coach’s glare.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Suga coughed pointedly, “Right. So, I gotta go. Good luck there.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>The younger boy beamed at him, “Thanks. See you around!”</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>He took his bag still lying off to the entrance and swung it over his right shoulder, grabbing his club jacket with his free hand. He left the court feeling exactly like he did when he got there before this match - overwhelmed and hella confused.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Good to know there was something decent about that day after all,” Makki mumbled, sitting up and stretching his sore back. “Waaah~ I’m beat. How ‘bout we head home, hm?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Sure,” Suga nodded, lifting himself off the floor way more easily and helping Makki to his feat too. “Though you gotta help me clean up first.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, yeah,” Makki waved him off, going to collect all the scattered volleyballs. “Whatever you want sunshine.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>‘Mhm,’</span>
  </em>
  <span> he hummed to himself, </span>
  <em>
    <span>‘I’m gonna do exactly that: what I want.’</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>***</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The next day Suga came to practice just like he promised to Tooru - though he couldn’t help the weird mix of anxiety and embarrassment overtaking him a little.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>As soon as he came into the gym he could feel a lot of members staring at him, but decided to ignore it for now. Gulping nervously, he made his way towards the side where Coach Irihata and Mizoguchi were talking silently to each other.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Irihata-sensei noticed him first and with a pleasant smile greeted, “Ah, Sugawara-kun. Good to see you again.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He paused in front of them and without missing a bit, bowed, “I apologize for missing practice the last few days. I assure you, it will never happen again.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“That is quite alright, my boy,” Irihata-sensei replied, no amount of pleasantry leaving his voice. “I understand you needed a little breather because of uncontrolled circumstances.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>That was quite a nice way of describing his hissy fit followed by excessive moping, though Suga decided to leave it at that. Straightening up he said instead, “I’ve heard you wanted me to consider switching permanently to libero.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“We thought this position would suit you better,” Coach Mizoguchi added, “though whether or not you accept our suggestion is entirely up to you. Take your time to think about it, if you need.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I understand, sensei, though I’ve already made my decision.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He could tell many people were listening in on their conversation - Makki and Tooru but to name a few - and strangely enough, it made him calmer, instead of agitating him further. Tooru’s words from yesterday resounded firmly in his head, helping him gather much needed courage.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“The team doesn’t ask because they want to get rid of you - it’s because the team needs your help, Suga-chan!”</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“You don’t have to do anything for anyone’s benefit. Do it for yourself, okay?”</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Taking a deep breath, he stated simply, “I’d like to help the team as a libero from now on.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The coaches both smiled at him - Irihata’s was polite and reserved, while Mizoguchi’s could probably scare a bunch of five-year-olds, it was so creepily content. Irihata-sensei asked cautiously, “Are you sure?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yes, I am,” he assured and with another bow exclaimed confidently, “I’ll be in your care!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He could say with certainty now that the sole reason he was beating himself over this so harshly, was that he didn’t want to admit to himself, what was it that he really wanted. Maybe he was trying to make excuses, or maybe he just needed this push that both Makki and Tooru provided.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>But the fact remained, that he still loved volleyball to death and would do anything in order to play. And if he really thought about what actually made him most thrilled while on the court, he could reply so easily it almost surprised him. That’s why he was sure.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He could do this.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Watch me destroy Iwa-chan's sanity and innocence as this fic progresses (sorry not sorry)</p><p>Anyway we are officaially done with angst train number 1 (which I proudly dub the Flashback Train) and will now enter a little breather in form of some fluff (god knows we need it :P) And speaking of breathers, I decided me and my lovely beta <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/alive_polish_fan">alive_polish_fan</a> need a little break too, since last minute college prep and stupid house renovations occupy all our time and destroy our energy reserves.</p><p>And so, chapter 6 will unfortunately come in not a week from today, but two weeks. Right now, I'm not sure if it would be a permanent change of schedule or a one-time thing - I need to see how much pre-written stuff I'll have by the end of this break to decide (cause yeah, because I've been forced to clean the entire house instead of doing what I want and need, I ran out of pre-written chapters).</p><p>Quick reminder that as usual, a short sneak preview will be posted a day prior on my tumblr  <a href="https://master-of-nyom.tumblr.com/">MasterOfNyom</a> where you can also DM me to ask questions or just generally talk to me :) There has been a lot of activity lately, so I think we'll do some kind of "meet the author" Q&amp;A soon if you're interested :P</p><p>Anyway, thanks for reading this chapter and I'll see you next time! &lt;3</p><p>Next time: promised fluff, quality bonding time and group study sessions are always a mess, when Trouble Trio is involved.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. The More the Merrier</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>In which group study sessions are a mess, but going out for some fun afterwards makes up for the sour mood.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>He <em> so cannot </em> do this.</p><p> </p><p>Few things have changed since Suga’s declaration. One of them was of course his training regime - which, despite him having practiced receiving drills plenty often before, felt significantly different. It was having a specialist supervision that made all the difference. Apparently, Suga had picked up some nasty little quirks that the coaches were hell-bent on correcting.</p><p> </p><p>And apparently, Coach Mizoguchi thought that endless repetition was the best way to do that. Which, alright, made sense, after all - practice makes perfect. However, it got to the point where Suga was pretty damn sure he'd never grow any chest hair, what with the amount of time he spent on wiping the floor with all the flying receives he did around the gym.</p><p> </p><p>Not that he was particularly fond of the idea, but still. His chest <em> fucking hurt </em> from the impact and itched from being constantly scraped by the fabric of his t-shirt.</p><p> </p><p>Although no matter how much it hurt, and how much Mizoguchi was trying to exhaust his bad habits out of him, he felt this weird sense of contentment whenever someone congratulated him on a successful receive during practice. </p><p> </p><p>It assured Suga that <em> ‘yes, he had made a good decision after all.’ </em></p><p> </p><p>He didn’t abandon setting though, his friends making it their little goal to pester Suga into tossing for them after practice. Even Tooru joined in the effort, saying that he could use some spiking practice as well, to surprise their opponents with a powerful setter dump.</p><p> </p><p>That was another thing that changed - the addition of Tooru and, by extension, Iwaizumi (who Suga quickly adopted to calling ‘Hajime’ - which was met with Makki and Tooru’s approval, because it flustered said spiky-haired teen to no end, and a flustered Iwaizumi was a sight those two devils would never get bored of).</p><p> </p><p>The five of them became a regular sight after practice and more often than not during breaks as well. Suga had been worried his friends wouldn’t take to Tooru right away, but it seemed that their conversation at the rec center redeemed him in Makki’s eyes. Mattsun didn’t question it - he just took in what Makki had said and decided to roll with it.</p><p> </p><p>And now, Suga and Makki were waiting for the rest of their little squad at their usual table, when suddenly, Suga felt somebody’s piercing glare drilling into him. In fact, it was the very same glare he had been receiving ever since his fight with Oikawa - which they had proudly dubbed ‘the Big Blow-up’ and resolved to never talk about in more detail <em> ever again. </em></p><p> </p><p>Suga thumped his head on the table with a loud sigh, “I feel like Asano-senpai hates me for some reason. He’s been staring at me since I came back.”</p><p> </p><p>Makki paused in unwrapping his bento box and coughed pointedly, “Yeah, about that…”</p><p> </p><p>“It’s entirely Makki’s fault!” Tooru chimed in, throwing an <em> unholy </em> amount of milk bread on the table. Seriously, Suga didn’t even have the strength to question it - the guy had such a sweet tooth Suga wondered how he was able to keep in shape <em> and </em> still have all his teeth intact. “He said you’re a better libero than him and he got angry.”</p><p> </p><p>“What?!” Suga’s head shot up and he turned eyes full of disbelief at his pink-haired friend. “Why?! When did you even say that?!”</p><p> </p><p>“After the Big Blow-up,” Iwaizumi supplied, him and Mattsun having finally joined them. “When the coaches asked us about your match in middle school. So if Asano hates anyone, it’s probably Hanamaki.”</p><p> </p><p>Makki shrugged, “It’s not like I was lying. I really think you can get way better than him.”</p><p> </p><p>Suga groaned, “You’re gonna destroy my school life before it even begins.”</p><p> </p><p>“You have condemned yourself that first day - now suck it up, sweetheart.”</p><p> </p><p>“Anyway~” Tooru stopped whatever retort Suga might have come up with, “you said you wanted to talk to us about something, didn’t you, Suga-chan?”</p><p> </p><p>“Right,” Suga straightened, moving to the task at hand. “I actually wanted to ask you two for a favor.”</p><p> </p><p>“Shoot,” Iwaizumi said, while Tooru perked up in interest.</p><p> </p><p>“You two are in college preparatory classes, right?” Two sets of nods answered his question simultaneously, so Suga continued, “Would you mind tutoring us for a bit? Cause you see, I’ve been trying to help those two idiots,” he gestured to Makki and Mattsun, who just snorted in unison, “keep their grades in check, but it’s easily five men’s work. Especially, since I could use some help myself.”</p><p> </p><p>Tooru flashed him a beaming smile, “So, like a group study session. I’m all for it, everything for you Suga-chan.”</p><p> </p><p>Suga answered Tooru’s smile with his own. “Great! And what about you, Hajime?”</p><p> </p><p>All four faces turned to Iwaizumi then, with varying expressions of expectancy. The spiky-haired teen just shrugged, “Sure, as long as we won’t do it at Oikawa’s.”</p><p> </p><p>Makki groaned and slumped dejectedly on the table, “Why? The exams aren’t until after the InterHigh - and that, by the way, is something you should be worried about now, not our grades.”</p><p> </p><p>InterHigh was just around the corner and so the coaches had announced the final lineup for the first string. Just as expected, Tooru was chosen as a secondary setter and Suga as a secondary libero, though the former with a little more perspective of playing in the actual tournament than the latter. </p><p> </p><p>That didn’t change the fact that the end-of-term exams were soon after the InterHigh and if they didn’t want to be banned from club activities, they’d have to pass every single one of them.</p><p> </p><p>Which, with Makki and Mattsun’s grades, was nothing short of a miracle.</p><p> </p><p>“Funny you mention volleyball, because you know,” Suga fixed Makki with a murderous glare, “if you fail any of your exams, you’ll miss the summer training camp. And you know, if you keep it up, you might also miss out on future tryouts and never make it to the first string. <em>Ever.</em>”</p><p> </p><p>“Fine, fine,” Makki grumbled unhappily, “geez, you’re such a <em>mom</em>, Suga. Oh, and speaking of moms, where are we meeting? At yours?”</p><p> </p><p>Hajime shrugged, “Fine by-”</p><p> </p><p>“Absolutely not!” Suga glowered and slammed his palm on the table. “I am <em> not </em> letting you in the vicinity of my mother! Ever again!”</p><p> </p><p>His little outburst caused all sorts of different reactions from his friends. Makki was grinning like a madman, seemingly having gained what he wanted, Mattsun was vaguely interested, if his raised eyebrow was any indication (and Suga was getting lost in the myriad of things those eyebrows could indicate). Meanwhile, Hajime was scared shitless and Tooru’s eyes were sparkling like a kid’s in front of a christmas tree.</p><p> </p><p>It was the latter that recovered first from the initial shock, “There is a story here, and I wanna hear it.”</p><p> </p><p>Suga scoffed, “It’s just that, if I hear about how<em> ‘Takahiro-kun’ </em> is such a <em> ‘gentleman’ </em> ,” he was going crazy with the air quotes, which only resulted in Makki’s grin getting progressively wider, much to Suga’s chagrin, “one more <em> goddamn </em> time, I feel like I’m gonna puke.”</p><p> </p><p>Tooru whistled, “Wow, I wouldn’t have marked you down as such a lady-killer, hm, Makki?”</p><p> </p><p>“Oh my god,” Suga and Iwaizumi groaned in unison, while Makki laughed, “One of the perks of having a gay friend - they’ll charm your mother into oblivion.”</p><p> </p><p>“Please no,” Suga whined, “you and her are ganging up on me all the time. There’s so much verbal humiliation I can take before I combust or whatever. Besides, I live like, an hour-long bus ride from school, slightly less by train.”</p><p> </p><p>Makki sighed in disappointment, “I hate that you make sense, angel.”</p><p> </p><p>“Me and Iwa-chan live close-by,” Tooru interjected, “and I happen to have an empty house on Sundays most of the time.”</p><p> </p><p>“We are <em>not</em> getting anywhere near your shitty alien movies collection,” Hajime grumbled. “I don’t trust you to actually study while we’re there. And anyone else for that matter.”</p><p> </p><p>“Rude, Iwa-chan, I would never-”</p><p> </p><p>“I live in a super tiny flat and I doubt we could all sit comfortably there,” Mattsun admitted, “so my house is out of the question. Iwaizumi?”</p><p> </p><p>“Too close to Oikawa’s shitty movies.”</p><p> </p><p>“Hey-!”</p><p> </p><p>“Also I have younger siblings who’d get in the way,” the spiky-haired teen continued, ignoring Tooru’s offended pouting.</p><p> </p><p>“Then that leaves me,” Makki beamed and suddenly, everything seemed like such a <em> bad idea. </em>“Any objections?”</p><p> </p><p>“I don’t even know where to start,” Suga mumbled dejectedly, “but we don’t have any other choice so, is Sunday after practice alright?”</p><p> </p><p>Everyone agreed, although reluctantly, a tiny dejected pout not leaving Tooru’s face, “Ugh, I wanted to watch some movies with Suga-chan.”</p><p> </p><p>“So you <em> do </em> admit you had no intention of actually studying,” Iwaizumi mused. “Talk about character development.”</p><p> </p><p>“Shut up!”</p><p> </p><p>“We can watch them some other time,” Suga tried to reassure him. “When we won't have tournaments and exams in the way.”</p><p> </p><p>There was that happy sparkle in his eyes as Tooru shot him a hopeful stare, “Really?!”</p><p> </p><p>“You don't know what you're signing up for,” Hajime’s voice held a subtle hint of bewilderment. “Don't underestimate the shittiness of those movies. By the end of it you’ll either want to gouge your own eyes, or commit a very gruesome murder.”</p><p> </p><p>“That's oddly specific,” Makki pointed out, to which Iwaizumi just shrugged, “Been there, done that.”</p><p> </p><p>“And yet here we are,” Tooru snarked, “you with your eyes functioning and in place and my beautiful self still gracing you with my presence.”</p><p> </p><p>“What a tragedy it is,” Makki mumbled, though not quiet enough for Tooru not to hear. </p><p> </p><p>His smile was <em> saccharinely </em> sweet, when he replied, “You mean what a tragedy it <em> would be </em>, if that were the case. Rejoice, Makki, I am alive.”</p><p> </p><p>Suga watched them banter for a while, going back and forth like in a tennis match, before interrupting, “Okay, that’s enough. And yes, Tooru, really.”</p><p> </p><p>He was happy that his beaming smile was answered by Tooru’s own, “I’ll hold you to that promise.”</p><p> </p><p>And holding Suga to it he did. </p><p> </p><p>***</p><p> </p><p>“Ugh,” Makki whined loudly, flopping down onto the coffee table, “Why did I agree to this?”</p><p> </p><p>The five of them sat on the floor of Makki’s living room, pouring over their recent math assignment. Suga really liked the feel of the house - there was something about the quaint atmosphere of the traditional estates that was so <em>soothing.</em> Everything, from the intricate paintings of cherry blossoms on the sliding doors, through a little battered tatami mats and to wind chimes clinking out in the backyard, created a dream-like picture that worked <em>magic</em> on calming your mind. Perfect atmosphere for studying. </p><p> </p><p>If only a very loud, very much exaggerating Makki didn't fail to ruin it <em> constantly.  </em></p><p> </p><p>“Don’t whine,” Suga chastised him, flipping him over the head with a textbook for good measure. “It's not even that hard. You’d know how to solve it if you hadn’t slept through every single lesson.”</p><p> </p><p>“There is no way I’d be able to stay conscious listening to this boring crap.” </p><p> </p><p>“You could, if you actually slept at night,” Mattsun remarked, sheer disinterest radiating from his voice as he considered burning the textbook or cracking his head on it. </p><p> </p><p>“Look at the pot calling the kettle black,” Makki scoffed, leaning on the back of the couch and crossing his arms over his chest. “I feel betrayed.”</p><p> </p><p>“Why are you guys even up till so late?” Hajime wondered. He was having a really <em> fucking </em> hard time keeping everyone in check. And mostly failing, even though Tooru was behaving himself like Hajime hadn’t ever thought he could. </p><p> </p><p>Makki shrugged, “Memes and video games.”</p><p> </p><p>Mattsun deadpanned, “Makki.”</p><p> </p><p>Iwaizumi scrunched his eyebrows in a frown, “That makes no sense. Suga manages just fine and I'm sure Hanamaki would bother him even more often than you.”</p><p> </p><p>“I learned to mute my phone before going to sleep,” Suga shrugged. “Had to, because of the endless cat videos coming up until like, 2 a.m. Hey Tooru, could you check this for me?” </p><p> </p><p>The other setter nodded and slid Suga’s notebook closer. Suga found himself starting unabashedly at the little crease that formed between Tooru’s eyebrows as he scrunched them in concentration. </p><p> </p><p>“Here,” Tooru’s voice broke Suga out of his trance and he forced himself to pay attention to what the other setter was pointing at. “There should be a minus here. That’s why it's all wrong.”</p><p> </p><p>“Damn,” Suga mumbled. “I always miss one somewhere. It's super frustrating.”</p><p> </p><p>“Oh wow, mister Top-of-our-class is having problems with something?” Makki scoffed. “Color me impressed.”</p><p> </p><p>Suga leveled him with a steady glare, “I have top scores <em>because</em> I study so much. I'm not some kind of genius.”</p><p> </p><p>“You're just stiff.”</p><p> </p><p>“Am not!”</p><p> </p><p>“Takahiro,” a woman’s voice exclaimed from the doorway. “There’s fresh lemonade in the kitchen. And I baked some cookies.”</p><p> </p><p>Makki beamed at her and quickly stood up, “Thanks Baa-chan, you're the best,” and disappeared behind his grandmother, mumbling a quick “Be right back.”</p><p> </p><p>“He totally just used this as an excuse to run away,” Iwaizumi grunted, not pausing in scribbling down numbers on his spreadsheet. </p><p> </p><p>Mattsun tutted, “Lucky bastard.”</p><p> </p><p>“What are you even talking about? He’ll be back,” Suga reasoned and the other two promptly shut up. </p><p> </p><p>“All done~,” Tooru stretched like a cat, to the point of there being an audible crack when strained joints popped back into place. “So, we’re having ourselves a little break, yeah?”</p><p> </p><p>“Apparently,” Hajime muttered, throwing the pencil in surrender and moving to rummage in his bag, “But we’re doing physics next.”</p><p> </p><p>“Oh good,” Suga sighed in relief, “I could use some help with that.”</p><p> </p><p>“I could use some help getting back inside!” Makki shouted from behind closed doors, Mattsun jumping to his feet to slide the door open in an instant. The pink-haired teen held out a tray of promised cookies and pot of lemonade, saying, “Take these, I’ll go back and grab some glasses.”</p><p> </p><p>In no time, they were all back sitting at the small table, stuffing themselves full of cookies and letting out oohs and ahhs because of how <em> godly </em> they were.</p><p> </p><p>“Your grandma,” Tooru mumbled, cheeks puffed out from trying to fit two cookies at the same time and only succeeding in making himself look like a chipmunk, “is an absolute treasure.”</p><p> </p><p>“Don’t you think I know that?” Makki replied proudly. “She makes the best cream puffs too - that, among other things, makes her an angel.”</p><p> </p><p>“What kind of other things?” Hajime asked curiously, to which Mattsun, of all people, wiggled his eyebrows suggestively, “Wouldn’t you wanna know?” effectively shutting the spiky-haired teen up and coloring his face with a fierce blush.</p><p> </p><p>“Anyway~” Tooru sing-songed, as if not having noticed his best friend’s embarrassment, “this place is so nice~ I wouldn’t peg you for the ‘traditional japanese estate’ kinda guy, or is it just because you're living with your grandparents?”</p><p> </p><p>Makki shot him a finger-gun with a tiny smirk, “You got it. This house has been in the family for years now. And yeah, it’s not really my thing, but I’m not complaining - I could’ve been living in a closet-sized flat like our darling Mattsun over here.”</p><p> </p><p><em> ‘Oh Makki, you sweet idiot,’ </em> Suga laughed internally, <em> ‘Mattsun is probably as far from closeted as you are.’ </em></p><p> </p><p>Ignoring the little implication, that was more of an inquiry, judging from a barely-there expectant look in Makki’s eyes, Mattsun replied in a wistful tone, “I’d take an <em> actual </em> closet in the city center over a 2-hour-long train ride every morning at like, 4am.”</p><p> </p><p>“Ouch,” Tooru winced in sympathy. “That sounds like hell.”</p><p> </p><p>“And you would know,” Iwaizumi drawled in a bored tone, “cause for you, morning starts at noon and any earlier is just ‘an attempt on my good night’s rest and well-deserved beauty sleep, Iwa-chan’.”</p><p> </p><p>He finished it off in a higher pitch, trying to impersonate Tooru’s whiny voice and succeeding enough to make them all roll on the floor in a fit of cackles. Well, except for Tooru himself, who looked like <em> he </em> was the one contemplating a very gruesome murder. All he did though, was glare at his best friend <em>vehemently</em> and squash a poor cookie he was holding into crumbs.</p><p> </p><p>“Ahaha~, that was a good one,” Makki shakily wiped his eyes, having teared up a little. “But anyway, for me it was kinda the same - my folks were moving to Tokyo, or Kyoto, I don’t really remember, because dad’s company was opening a new branch, and I got dumped here in Miyagi.”</p><p> </p><p>Suga’s laughter died in his chest as he scrunched his eyebrows in confusion, “Wait, you said you didn’t want to go with them. What do you mean you got <em> ‘dumped here’ </em>?”</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah, that sounds kinda dark,” Tooru nodded along, abandoning the death-glare he was fixing Hajime with.</p><p> </p><p>“Exactly as it sounds,” Makki shrugged, but Suga could tell he wasn’t as unbothered as he tried to pass by. “My father wanted to get rid of me and send me off to another prefecture. That’s why I say my grandma is an angel, she didn’t have to take me in, but here I am. She’s wonderful like that.”</p><p> </p><p>Suga felt as if he had been punched. Was he so in his own head that he didn’t realize it? Or maybe he hadn’t cared enough to ask and now it came back to bite his ass off. What kind of a friend doesn’t know about something so crucial? </p><p> </p><p>A damn shitty one, at least in Suga’s book.</p><p> </p><p>“What the hell?” Hajime’s voice cut through Suga’s train of thought, heading abruptly into the darker, self-deprecating parts of his brain. “What kind of father does that?!”</p><p> </p><p>And there was that shrug again, feigning indifference despite not being able to fool anyone, “The kind that would rather have no son than a gay one.”</p><p> </p><p>An awkward kind of silence fell after Makki’s last statement. They had no clue how to approach this huge crater that was caused by the truth bomb the pink-haired teen dropped as if it was <em> no biggie. </em>Then again, he was exactly that kind of person - brushing off serious problems to avoid thinking about them too much and spiraling down into negative thoughts.</p><p> </p><p><em> ‘Damn this idiot,’ </em> Suga gritted his teeth, glaring at his best friend to mentally convey a message, <em> ‘you’re not running away from this conversation.’ </em></p><p> </p><p>Makki visibly shrunk under his pointed stare, but nodded minutely nonetheless. Suga sighed deeply, content that at least he’d have a chance to redeem himself as a friend later. </p><p> </p><p>But it seemed their little non-verbal conversation didn’t go unnoticed - Tooru must’ve been observing them intently, or maybe he just had a sixth sense that let him notice those kinds of things. Maybe it was a setter thing.</p><p> </p><p>Or maybe it was because the tension in the room was so thick you could cut it with a knife, but Suga disregarded that option as soon as he noticed how confused Iwaizumi still looked - admittedly, not everyone was as perceptive as mister star setter.</p><p> </p><p>Tooru stretched ostentatiously and in an overly-cheerful voice exclaimed, “Alright, I think I could use some fresh air~ I saw a convenience store round the corner, wanna go with me to buy some more snacks Iwa-chan?”</p><p> </p><p>“What? Why do you suddenly-,” the spiky-haired teen started, but faltered as soon as Tooru leveled him with a stern gaze. Hajime collected himself and coughed pointedly, “Right, sure, let’s go. Matsukawa you going with us?”</p><p> </p><p>“Nah, I need to use the toilet,” Mattsun lazily stood up and strolled out of the room, not even asking for direction - that, more than anything, proved how often he came here after school and yet, Makki was somehow <em> still </em> blissfully oblivious to his motives? Ridiculous.</p><p> </p><p>“Alrighty then~ Let’s go, Iwa-chan,” Tooru chirped, grabbing his best friend by the arm and steering him towards the exit as well, shooting Suga a thumbs up as he closed the doors after himself.</p><p> </p><p>Suga pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed, before focusing his attention on the task at hand.</p><p> </p><p>And that was to figure out why the hell his stupid best friend thought <em> now </em> was the greatest fucking time to share his tragic backstory. With everyone no less, as if he didn’t bother about their reactions.</p><p> </p><p>Well, he probably didn’t to be honest. That’s just Makki for you, alright.</p><p> </p><p>“Aw come on, don’t look at me like that,” Makki whined lowly, seemingly fed up with the suspense, but knowing Suga wasn’t mad at him, just concerned. “I really<em> am</em> fine, I swear. Please just let it be, okay?”</p><p> </p><p>Suga remained unmoving, ignoring his friend’s pleas and instead pointed an accusatory finger at him and wiggled it in a ‘come hither’ motion. Makki reluctantly scooted a little closer, but still too far for Suga’s liking, so he kept staring at the pink-head until he shifted so close their thighs were practically touching.</p><p> </p><p>“What are you-?” Makki didn’t get to finish this sentence, as Suga placed a warm palm on the back of his neck and pulled, so that his head rested in the crook of Suga’s neck. After a few seconds of initial confusion, Makki got the hint and circled his arms around Suga’s middle loosely, returning the hug.</p><p> </p><p>Suga huffed an exasperated breath, “You’re an idiot, you know that?”</p><p> </p><p>“Mhm,” the pink-haired teen hummed, nuzzling Suga’s neck lightly, making it a little hard for him not to squirm from how ticklish it felt. He mumbled then, “What exactly are you calling me an idiot for this time darling?”</p><p> </p><p>“Just because,” Suga replied, tapping his friend’s neck in some nonsensical rhythm. Makki hummed in reply and they settled into a comfortable silence for a while, before Suga asked quietly, “Did you not tell me earlier because you thought I had enough on my plate already?”</p><p> </p><p>Makki huffed an affirmative noise and added, “That and I actually <em> am </em> fine about this. I mean, it’s not really a recent affair - there was unpleasant tension between my parents and I even before I came to Miyagi. We never really got along much, so it felt like me being gay was just the kind of excuse they have been waiting for all along.”</p><p> </p><p>He took a little shaky breath and hugged Suga just a little tighter, “I was never a smart kid, nor a social butterfly or a leader-material, never the best at anything. Volleyball just kinda clicked for me, so I ended up doing it throughout middle school and honestly, I feel like being able to go to Seijoh here is the best thing that has ever happened to me.”</p><p> </p><p>Makki disentangled himself then, in favor of staring Suga straight in the eyes. Sporting the biggest grin he could master, he flicked Suga’s forehead playfully, “I wouldn’t be here if that wasn’t the case, right? We wouldn’t have met and I wouldn't get the chance to get the best fucking friend that has ever best-friended on this planet.”</p><p> </p><p>Suga swatted his hand away, blushing profusely, “Oh my god, how do you always change every serious conversation we have into the sappiest kind of mess? I was trying to be supportive, you know.”</p><p> </p><p>“Oh but you are,” Makki’s smile gained a little mischievous edge to it and Suga got the split-second thought of <em> ‘oh no’ </em> before he latched onto his sides, tickling him mercilessly, “You are...the brightest...most caring...most supportive person I’ve ever met.”</p><p> </p><p>Every pause was punctuated by another tickling assault, leaving Suga rolling on the floor, trying to squirm away and asking for mercy, “Okay, hahaha fine, you win! Just- oh fuck, please stop, I can’t take it anymore!”</p><p> </p><p>Just as soon as he’d started this laughing torture, Makki stopped, moving his hands to rest on either side of Suga’s head, caging him in between. With a fond expression he said, “Thanks, Suga - for real. And sorry I didn’t tell you before. I promise, I’ll go to you sooner next time I have an internal crisis or something.”</p><p> </p><p>Compelled to tease him a little bit more, Suga replied, “Oh you’d better - give me a chance to return the favor, okay? You’re taking away my ‘best-friending’ opportunities, that’s not fair.”</p><p> </p><p>Makki huffed out a laugh, “Sure thing dar-”</p><p> </p><p>Just then, they heard the front doors opening and a cheerful “We’re back!” from Tooru was all the indication they got before in came a mildly-annoyed Iwaizumi, holding a grocery bag in one hand and resting his other one on the doorframe. For a second, it looked like his face would get colored by that impressive blush of his <em>again</em>, but he collected himself in the last second, enough to only sound a little strained as he spluttered, “I <em> refuse </em> to believe you’re not doing this on purpose.”</p><p> </p><p>Suga opened his mouth to deny it, but all that came out of his mouth was a weak grunt as Makki fell on top of him, his arms no longer supporting his weight as he shook from laughter. Suga felt all the air being punched out of his lungs and he started scratching weakly at the pink-head’s back, shouting to the best of his ability, “Get off of me idiot, you’re too heavy!”</p><p> </p><p>“Right, haha, sorry,” Makki slid off of him and to the side, though one of his arms and legs still rested on top of Suga. The silver-haired teen sighed in relief feeling the pressure on his chest alleviate…</p><p> </p><p>“Cuddle pile!” which was short lived, because Tooru was not flustered by the sight of them sprawled on the floor in the slightest and had no qualms about jumping in to join the messy display, giggling in delight.</p><p> </p><p>“What did I miss?” Mattsun finally strolled in, bypassing Iwaizumi in the door and taking only a short glance to assess the situation, before slotting himself in between Makki’s back and Tooru’s lanky arms.</p><p> </p><p>Hajime just looked at them with a lost expression and mumbled weakly, “But… We were supposed to do physics…”</p><p> </p><p>His complaints fell on deaf ears however and soon, he found himself being dragged in by Tooru and Suga’s outstretched arms. And thus, by a majority vote, laws of physics got overruled by <em> physical contact. </em></p><p> </p><p>***</p><p> </p><p>Despite their first group study session ending up in a giant mess, they quickly became a weekly occurrence, at least until their finals approached. Which they have all thankfully passed, though some with a little less flying colors than the others (then again, was anyone surprised? not really). </p><p> </p><p>Suga’s scores in particular exceeded his own expectations, to the point that his homeroom teacher assured him that if he kept it up, he would no doubt get moved into college preparatory classes next year. Which was met with Tooru’s excited squeal, because it meant that “you and me could be in the same class next year, isn’t that great Suga-chan?”</p><p> </p><p>And seeing the other’s bright smile, Suga couldn’t help but feel excited himself, promising that he’ll do his best to make it come true.</p><p> </p><p>Even before their finals however, came their first InterHigh in Seijoh and with it, just as much joy as a little bitter disappointment. Just as expected, Suga spent most of it with other bench players, watching from the sidelines as his senpais gradually advanced to the finals, cheering when their plays succeeded and feeling remorseful when they didn’t. </p><p> </p><p>He couldn’t help but wonder, how quickly his point of view changed - just a few months ago, he probably would’ve felt outcast, watching his team win without contributing to it much. But strangely enough, that wasn’t the case this time. If anything, he felt a little reassured by not being able to play. He knew that he had a lot more to learn as a libero and that this was his opportunity to observe and analyze, to think of the ways he could improve himself so as to help the entire team improve.</p><p> </p><p>His time will come eventually - for now, he was content to take the back seat and wait for his opportunity to shine.</p><p> </p><p>The situation was completely different for Tooru - he got to play in a few matches as the main setter, as well as pinch server in games he didn’t partake. He did as amazingly as one would expect and Suga couldn’t help a little smile to appear whenever he saw Tooru succeed out there, on the court. Despite being the only first-year in the starting roster, he blended into the team so well, it seemed like he had known those players all his life.</p><p> </p><p>Maybe that’s why, Tooru took their loss in the finals way worse than the rest of their little squad.</p><p> </p><p>Suga could sense that the setter was way more frustrated than any of them, maybe even more so than some of the third-years, even though it was their last InterHigh and now, their only hopes of going to nationals rested on the spring tournament. He had an inkling that there must’ve been something else to Tooru’s frustration, a different undertone that made their loss that much more bitter for him.</p><p> </p><p>He was worried something bad might happen to him in this state - frankly, Suga has never seen him so aggravated, and they have jumped to each other’s throats not so long ago so… Yeah, maybe to say he was <em> ‘worried’ </em> was an understatement.</p><p> </p><p>And the shared team dinner held right after that final game, which Suga thought was just Seijoh’s masochistic practice of rubbing salt into the wound, didn’t help with Suga’s quickly forming plan to improve his friend’s (and his own) mood<em> somehow. </em> More like, it made his job even harder, because damn, if they’d been feeling sour before that dinner, afterwards, they were on the verge of internal (or not so internal - there has been a lot of crying involved) breakdown.</p><p> </p><p>It turned out he didn’t have to do anything after all, because Hajime did that for him. On Sunday after the tournament, he called their entire group, asking if they were free and would they <em> please </em> go meet him at the train station near Aoba Johsai, because he had ‘something he wanted them all to try’.</p><p> </p><p>Since it was right after that disastrous final game, the volleyball team received a day off of practice. With suddenly so much free time at his hands, Suga didn’t have anything to do in particular, not even sure what he wanted to do in the first place, so he welcomed the invitation with arms wide open. </p><p> </p><p>And that’s why he was here, standing in the scorching heat of summer for who-knows-how-long now, waiting for others to show up, because <em> of course </em> he had to be the first one to arrive. Curse his sweet suburban neighbourhood for being so <em> lovely </em> yet so in the middle of nowhere that trains didn’t come frequently enough to ensure that he didn’t end up being half an hour early for everything.</p><p> </p><p>Though this time, he didn’t mind the wait so much - or rather, he didn’t have the mind to care about it, as he mulled over the single text message Hajime sent him just before he set off for the train: </p><p> </p><p>
  <b>Hajime, 9:48</b>
</p><p>&gt;&gt; I’ll drag Tooru with me if I have to, but we really need to take his mind off of things - will you help me out?</p><p> </p><p>Which frankly, made Suga even more worried for the setter, not knowing what had been gnawing at him to the point he might even refuse his own best friend’s invitation? What was so bad that Hajime had to rely on <em>him</em> to help Tooru, when he most definitely knew better ways to do so?</p><p> </p><p>Well, doesn’t matter - he wasn’t going to ditch the opportunity to return the favor to the setter. He helped Suga out when he was struggling so much - even if he was <em> kind of </em> the one who made him feel depressed in the first place, but who cares about those insignificant details now.</p><p> </p><p>“Sorry for the wait,” Hajime’s voice sounded a little out of breath as he strolled in Suga’s direction, dragging a pouting and visibly worned out Tooru. He had dark circles so deep even the insane amounts of concealer he’d used weren’t able to cover them completely. Suga’s concern levels shot through the roof in an instant. “Somebody didn’t want to leave their bed.”</p><p> </p><p>“It’s too early in the morning for that,” Tooru whined, though his voice sounded a little hoarse - Suga wasn’t sure if it was the ‘I’m still sleeping’ kinda hoarse or maybe the ‘I’ve been crying and shouting into my pillow all night’ kind.</p><p> </p><p>He really hoped it was the former.</p><p> </p><p>Washing away his worries for now, Suga smiled as brightly as possible, “No worries, I didn’t wait that long. And Makki and Mattsun didn’t show up yet either.”</p><p> </p><p>“That’s cause you called us here on such an <em> ungodly </em> hour,” Makki suddenly chimed in, appearing seemingly out of nowhere with Mattsun in tow, both of them sporting matching sets of circles that were able to rival Tooru’s, even though they have for sure <em> not </em>used concealer on them.</p><p> </p><p>Suga’s concern levels were slowly but surely approaching the stratosphere.</p><p> </p><p>“You <em> do </em> know it’s almost noon, right?” Hajime noted in a bored voice, as if to say ‘yep, same shit, different day’ - he really must’ve seen that a lot from Tooru, which almost made Suga smile. Almost. “What the hell have you been doing all night?”</p><p> </p><p>“Playing video games,” Makki stated, yawning pointedly at the end.</p><p> </p><p>“Makki,” Mattsun deadpanned, making the pink-haired teen howl in delightful laughter at the intentional innuendo. As if anything would’ve actually happened between them - if it did, Suga wouldn’t hear the end of it. Like this, they probably just played Mario Kart until they both passed out.</p><p> </p><p>Hajime just sighed, not prompting any further, and waved them off, “Whatever. Let’s just go already.”</p><p> </p><p>Tooru opened his mouth like he wanted to say something, but after a second of thought closed it promptly, seemingly realizing he’s not getting out of this at all. Makki had a similar reaction and soon, they all followed Hajime like a flock of ducklets tailing their mother duck. Suga giggled a little at the imagery, earning himself a few confused looks from his friends, but he just waved them off and continued to snicker weakly to himself.</p><p> </p><p>He was so lost in his own thoughts that he didn’t notice where they were headed towards, nor when did they stop. And so, instead of halting in his steps, he walked straight into Mattsun’s back and nearly knocked himself down from the impact, because that beanpole just <em> wouldn’t budge.  </em></p><p> </p><p>“Careful,” the curly-haired teen helped to steady him and Suga thanked him with a silent nod. </p><p> </p><p>He looked up to see where they had arrived at and couldn’t help but frown in confusion, “Why <em> exactly </em> are we at a batting center?”</p><p> </p><p>To be completely honest, Suga didn’t know what to expect from Hajime. He wasn’t the type to play arcade games and he definitely wouldn’t drag them to karaoke - that was something Tooru would do, but since it was primarily meant to cheer the setter up, Suga didn’t disregard the possibility. Batting center however, was something he didn’t consider in the slightest.</p><p> </p><p>Four sets of inquisitive stares fixed on Hajime’s profile, but the spiker only shrugged in response, “Like I said, I wanted to try it.”</p><p> </p><p><em> ‘Right,’ </em> Suga thought sarcastically as they paid for three batter boxes for 1 hour, <em> ‘because that explains a lot. How is this about Tooru? I really don’t think he’s going to like this.’ </em></p><p> </p><p>And sure enough, right as they reached their assigned boxes, Tooru scrunched his eyebrows in disdain, “Urgh, why did I agree to go? I <em> so </em> don’t wanna do this.”</p><p> </p><p>Suga was about to suggest that maybe it wasn’t such a good idea either and they should try something else, but Hajime send him a gaze that just screamed<em> ‘Trust me, this is going to work' </em> , so he squashed those thoughts before they escaped his lips and threw the setter his signature smile, “Aw, come on, you haven’t even tried yet! This is gonna be fun, don’t be a party pooper.”</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah, it wouldn’t hurt you to let loose a little,” Makki chimed in, throwing on a helmet and weighing a few bats in his hands, trying to decide which one suited him the best. After a while he hummed to himself in satisfaction and shot them a lopsided grin, “Or are you that afraid of making a fool out of yourself?”</p><p> </p><p>Tooru sucked in an offended breath, “Excuse you, I am <em>not</em> a spoilsport and I <em> will not </em> make a fool of myself either! Give me that bat!”</p><p> </p><p><em> ‘Perfect,’ </em> Suga smirked to himself as the setter stomped furiously to the one remaining cage, as Makki and Hajime occupied the other two. <em> ‘Now, anger is at least an emotion. And it’s clearly better than that moping Tooru.’ </em></p><p> </p><p>If making Tooru mad was all it took to make him participate, Suga would gladly do it - luckily, he didn’t have to, since Makki did it for him. Once again, he was left to wonder if it was because the pink-haired teen just likes to tease people or because he had somehow read Suga’s intentions and acted accordingly, with that uncanny ‘sixth sense’ or whatever bullshit of his.</p><p> </p><p>Or maybe it was simply because he figured out just how much Tooru hates losing. Wasn’t that hard, really, since his current mood was a living proof of that fact.</p><p> </p><p><em> ‘Either way,’ </em> he leaned his side on the chain-link fence and glanced at the setter, who despite his earlier bravado now seemed a little lost as to what he exactly has to do now. A few meters away Mattsun was mimicking Suga’s position next to Makki’s cage, because of course. <em> ‘I have to thank him later. Though he probably would go all smug about it.’ </em></p><p> </p><p>“Alright big guy, how about we make it a competition?” they haven’t even started and yet Makki, in his usual fashion, was looking for a way to cause a ruckus. And even worse, Hajime was playing right into his hands, for he only smirked and agreed, “Sure. Don’t go crying to me for a rematch when you lose though.”</p><p> </p><p>Mattsun whistled loudly, seemingly impressed, “Confident, aren’t you?”</p><p> </p><p>“Of course he is,” everyone startled hearing Tooru speak out in a not-brooding-or-whiny fashion. If anything, he almost sounded bored, “He’s been a ‘baseball star’ before I got him into volleyball.”  </p><p> </p><p>“Well well, what a coincidence,” Makki grinned mischievously, “I have as well. Anyway, you in too, Trash King?”</p><p> </p><p>“Pass - you neanderthals have your fun,” Tooru waved him off and turned to the machine, muttering under his nose, “How do you turn this on?”</p><p> </p><p>Suga snickered seeing his friend's offended expression, but Hajime distracted him enough to keep him away from Tooru. He turned to the setter and pointed, “There’s a switch on the right, you turn it on, input the settings on that tiny monitor, like ball height and speed and press start on the right.”</p><p> </p><p>“Oh, I see. Thanks Suga-chan!” he was glad to see the setter attempt at least a small smile, as he went to adjust the settings as instructed. “You’ve been here before?”</p><p> </p><p>Suga hummed an affirmative noise, “Not here in particular, but I’ve gone to one of those with my cousins ones - they just <em> love </em> baseball and it was great fun to see them enjoy themselves!”</p><p> </p><p>Tooru raised his head and looked at him in confusion, “You mean you haven’t tried it then?”</p><p> </p><p>“No no, of course I have,” Suga shook his head with a smile, “Just that I suck at it. Also, watch out.”</p><p> </p><p>He probably should’ve warned the setter earlier - since he was turned to Suga, he didn’t notice the machine had finished loading in the balls and was prepared to shoot. Unlike Suga, who has been facing the inside of the batting cage and could see the moment the long tube spat out the white ball with the speed of a bullet. </p><p> </p><p>Well, that last one was probably an exaggeration. Still, the sound Tooru made when it hit him on the side was so pained, Suga imagined this was what a person shot with a gun would sound like, “Gyaa, what the hell?! Ouch!”</p><p> </p><p>The next one hit him square on the helmet and Suga couldn’t help himself any longer - he broke into uncontrolled laughter as Tooru started dancing around like crazy to avoid getting hit by any more balls.</p><p> </p><p>“This is not funny Suga-chan! How do you turn this thing off?!” </p><p> </p><p>At this point, he has forgotten he’s holding a bat in one hand and almost threw it to the ground to protect himself. Suga on the other hand, had trouble breathing from how hard he was laughing, let alone trying to help. He could vaguely tell others were in the same state, but somehow, Hajime and Makki managed not to get nailed by any of the  balls in their respective cages. Mattsun was shaking so much he could barely stand on his own two feet however, leaning on the wired net and almost sliding completely to the floor.</p><p> </p><p>“Suga-chan! Help!”</p><p> </p><p>“Okay, haha, hold on!” he clutched his sides and took a deep breath, trying his damndest not to break into another fit of giggles upon seeing just how <em> panicked </em>Tooru’s expression was. “Don’t run, just take a swing, come on, they aren’t that fast. ”</p><p> </p><p>“Easy,” one dodge, “for you,” he clutched the bat with both hands, “to say!” and swung at it as hard as he could, almost losing balance and tumbling to the ground in a boneless heap. Either way, he managed to make contact with a ball, albeit messily, and shoot it a few feet away. </p><p> </p><p>“See? You did it!” Suga exclaimed happily, but had to wipe the smile off his face in just a few seconds, because, “Watch out!”</p><p> </p><p>Tooru got so shell-shocked at his first successful attempt that he kind of just stood there for a second, forgetting that the machine was pretty much <em>still going</em>. Once again, Suga’s warning was just a fraction of a second too late and the ball smashed into the setter’s helmet with a dull thump.</p><p> </p><p>For a while, Tooru’s expression turned completely blank, like he was just <em> done </em> with this whole situation, only for it to twist into pure <em> rage </em>, with little flames flickering in his chocolate eyes like tiny embers, lighting them up into a honey hue. When the next ball came hurtling towards his face, he made such a powerful and accurate swing, it rocketed all the way to the other side of the cage. </p><p> </p><p>A home run. Just like that.</p><p> </p><p>“Eat shit you stupid machine!” what followed, was one furious smash after the other, some less accurate, but all just as strong as the first one. Suga was left baffled at the sheer anger that radiated off of Tooru, but as he kept on watching the setter, he noticed how gradually, some of that tension would let off of his shoulders, as if by projecting that anger onto something else, he was finally able to feel a little better.</p><p> </p><p><em>‘So this is what Hajime had in mind,’</em> he realized with a startle, <em>‘who would’ve thought it would be so effective.’</em></p><p> </p><p>And it really was, for in just a few minutes, the machine had stopped its salve and Tooru was panting heavily, but sporting a big, self-satisfied smile. “How do you reset it?”</p><p> </p><p>With a little help, the setter managed to get the device going again. This time, he wasn’t as aggressive, but rather settled into a nice rhythm, kind of just getting lost in the repetitive motions. Suga took this moment to glance briefly at how the others were doing. As expected, Hajime and Makki were engrossed in their own little competition and Mattsun was uh, well… Also <em>engrossed,</em> but in observing Makki, because of course he was.</p><p> </p><p>“You think he knows that our dear Makki-chan likes him back?” Tooru asked suddenly, making Suga twitch in surprise a little. </p><p> </p><p>He was almost sure he had misheard that, because the setter didn’t stop in his batting, but a quick confirmative glance shot over the taller’s shoulder proved Suga wrong, “Maybe. But I don’t think so, not yet anyway.”</p><p> </p><p>Tooru hummed quietly in agreement, which was barely heard above the metallic sound of bats making contact with the balls in quick succession, “But he does know that he’s gay, right?”</p><p> </p><p>He hummed a little affirmative noise, “He’d be pretty stupid not to, considering Makki has shared it with basically everyone and on multiple occassions.” </p><p> </p><p>Suga was now paying rapt attention to the setter, not wanting to miss an eventual follow-up reaction. And sure as hell he got one, for soon the other was scrunching his eyebrows in thought. He hit the last ball and leaned heavily on the wired net right next to Suga, pinching the bridge of his nose with an exasperated sigh, “Makki has no idea, does he?”</p><p> </p><p>“Nope~” he replied, popping the ‘p’ in what was usually Makki’s fashion, making Tooru whine in disbelief that much harder.</p><p> </p><p>“How is that even possible? You could clearly tell from his face, all the time!” Suga wasn’t quite sure about that one - after all, Mattsun tended to have only one expression most of the time, his eyebrows being the only indication that something else was going on in that head of his… “I mean, look at him!”</p><p> </p><p>Following Tooru’s request, he chanced a glance at the other three. Sure as hell, Mattsun was still staring at Makki like he was a <em>godsent</em> or whatever, following his every move with a hint of a smile dancing on his lips. A <em>smile</em>. Mattsun.</p><p> </p><p>“What the actual fuck…” Suga couldn’t help but exclaim, which made Tooru look at him with ‘I told you so’ written all over his face. Shaking his head out of this shock, he shouted for the others to hear, “So, how’s the competition going? Who’s winning!”</p><p> </p><p>“Me!” Hajime and Makki shouted at the same time and immediately glared at each other, somehow still not missing the next shots by a hair’s breadth. </p><p> </p><p>Mattsun’s smile was gone as he regarded them in his usual bored expression and in a no-nonsense tone replied, “Makki.”</p><p> </p><p>“Oh hell no he isn’t!” Hajime sounded particularly offended, smashing the next one with so much force it ended in a home run before they even blinked.</p><p> </p><p>“Oh hell yes I am!” Makki laughed victoriously, shooting the next one in a beautiful arc towards the end goal. At this point, Suga had no idea if he was speaking the truth or not.</p><p> </p><p>“Pfft, hahaha,” Tooru suddenly broke into uncontrollable laughter, so hard it made him tear up. Suga couldn’t help but grin at the sudden improvement in the setter’s mood and a self-satisfied smirk he caught Hajime sporting only added to it.</p><p> </p><p>Having made sure the other teen can properly breathe again, Suga bumped him on the side, as much as the net allowed him and asked, “Feeling a little better then?”</p><p> </p><p>He really didn’t need to ask and neither did Tooru need to answer, but he did it anyway, “Yeah. I guess I had to unwind a bit.”</p><p> </p><p>Suga hummed quietly and after a moment searched the setter’s gaze with his own, letting a little bit of worry and a huge deal of reassurance seep into it, “Do you wanna talk about it?”</p><p> </p><p>Tooru took a bit to reply, as if contemplating, but in the end answered simply, “Not now. Some other time.”</p><p> </p><p>“Okay then,” Suga complied easily. He wasn’t about to force the other into full-on confession mode - the place and timing left a lot to be desired. Still, with a little innocent smirk, he added, “I’ll hold you to it then.”</p><p> </p><p>Tooru just snorted, “Like with the alien movies?”</p><p> </p><p>He might’ve tried to sound indifferent and teasing, but Suga could easily tell just how hopeful that question was. So, mirroring his friend’s snort, he answered, “Yeah, just like the alien movies.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>So. This has become a mess.</p><p>Or more like, my schedule did, cause I so cannot deal with my classes, they're too much of a time-consuming pain. I could make up a lengthy apology note, but who the hell wants to hear it. All I will say is: no, I do not plan on abandoning this fic at all, I really want to finish it so I hope you would want to stick with me here until that happens, as long as it takes.</p><p>So, no apparent schedule for the next chapter (for now), but it shouldn't take as long as this one, as I've been looking forward to this particular chapter ever since I came up with the idea. I do apologize in advance, if that won't be as fast as one would expect.</p><p>Once again, shoutout to my beta <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/alive_polish_fan">alive_polish_fan</a> who first had to deal with me slacking off and then pestering her continuously about checking it haha. She's been having it even rougher than I did, both class-wise and because of recent happenings in the SPN fandom (I'm sure some of you know what I'm refering to), so really, she's been an absolute treasure throughout this messy period. </p><p>And again, you can find me on tumblr under <a href="https://www.tumblr.com/blog/view/master-of-nyom">MasterOfNyom</a> where you can see a sneak preview one day (or like, one month :P) before the chapter publication here on ao3 and also ask me any questions regarding this fic, Haikyuu or just come in for a friendly chat :)</p><p>Anyway, thanks for reading and see you next chapter (whenever it comes)</p><p>Next time: "meet the parents", heart-to-heart featuring the promised alien movies and blatant fanservice turns into blackmail material if fallen into wrong hands ;)</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Chaos Assemble</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>In which the Oikawa Household is Pure Chaos™, Suga is the perfect housewife and shitty alien movies make their first appearance.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Oikawa Tooru made a <em> tremendous </em> mistake.</p><p> </p><p>It was the absolute worst kind of mistake - the kind that just <em> screams </em> of poor both planning and execution. The kind that makes the situation even more uncomfortable and <em> precisely </em> the kind that Tooru would not usually make, <em> ever </em>. But alas, it happened. It was a result of way too much excitement and way too little foresight.</p><p> </p><p>It was unavoidable.</p><p> </p><p>“So,” he started the question cautiously, biting his lip in thought and absentmindedly drumming his fingertips on the dining table, “can I have a friend over? Let’s say, next weekend?”</p><p> </p><p>Mistake number one - timing. While asking for a favor, you need to make sure no other people aside from the one the question is directed towards is present. You definitely <em> don’t </em> ask for stuff like that over dinner, with almost every family member around. In the Oikawa household, it’s a surefire way to make room for teasing remarks.</p><p> </p><p>But for some reason, it didn’t look like anyone was paying him attention - or at least, didn’t think there was something extraordinary about his behavior today. His older brother Makoto kept staring at the screen of his laptop, no doubt editing some of his photographs and not taking a break to sit down and eat dinner properly because, <em> “I’m not about to take an all-nighter just because assignments are a bitch, Tooru, I’m not a masochist like you.” </em></p><p> </p><p>His sister Nagisa was helping their mother with washing the dishes, as usual the first one to finish her meal and to offer a hand when needed. And there was also her son Takeru, who was frowning at his vegetables as if they’ve personally offended him.</p><p> </p><p>Just the usual picture-perfect afternoon in the Oikawa household. Really, even if he wanted to, he couldn’t blame himself for letting his guard down a little.</p><p> </p><p>Because there was his mother, sighing in fond exasperation with a hint of a smile both in her voice and on her face, “Tooru, we both know how often Hajime-kun comes over - why do you suddenly need to ask if he <em> can </em>?”</p><p> </p><p>...and Tooru knew then and there that he was absolutely <em> screwed </em>.</p><p> </p><p>With a question like that, he couldn’t just back out, brush it off like nothing happened with a simple “nevermind”, because everyone was paying him attention now. He was done for either way.</p><p> </p><p>Summer break was well underway now, and aside from their club’s “training camp”, which was really just everyday training after which all of the members went home as usual and came back the next day, there wasn’t much to do. What assignments Tooru had, he made sure to finish as soon as possible, to save as much freetime later on as he could and he intended to make the best of it.</p><p> </p><p>And if he had to endure teasing remarks from his siblings to get what he wanted, so be it, he’ll just push through.</p><p> </p><p>For Suga-chan! And the alien movies.</p><p> </p><p>So he took a big breath, pitying the fate of him from the immediate future and braced himself for the impact, “I… wasn’t talking about Iwa-chan.”</p><p> </p><p>One second. Two. Three.</p><p> </p><p>Tooru was eyeing his older brother suspiciously, convinced he would be the first one to rise up with a clapback, because that’s how things usually were. And sure, maybe Makoto took a second too long to blink in disbelief, but in no time he opened his mouth to speak, no doubt a snarky remark forming on his lips, when-</p><p> </p><p>Takeru shifted his pout on him instead of those poor veggies, “You mean you <em> actually </em> have friends, Tooru?”</p><p> </p><p>The room immediately exploded in laughter, most of which was Makoto’s ugly ass wheezing that sounded like a dying animal, “Oh my god, he got you so good! Great job kiddo!”</p><p> </p><p>“Mean, Takeru, so mean!” Tooru spluttered indignantly, trying to ignore the fact that even his mother was chuckling heartily and Nagisa, despite how hard she tried, could’t hide her snickering either. He rued the day his father left for yet another business trip. Having him here, the sole angel among the house full of devils, would help soften the blow at least a little bit. “Of course I have friends! Lots of them!”</p><p> </p><p>Alas, he was alone. He mentally bashed Tooru from the past for, again, choosing the worst timing possible, but summer break won’t last forever and he really, really wants to have that movie night and sleepover with Suga-chan…</p><p> </p><p>“Alright, that’s enough,” Nagisa clapped her hands, as usual the first to recover - courtesy of being the firstborn, probably. “Takeru, that was a rude thing to say, apologize.”</p><p> </p><p>“But mom!” the boy pouted, feeling wronged and sad that his mom was trying to cut the fun time short.</p><p> </p><p>Makoto pointed his chopsticks in their direction, “Hey there, can’t blame the kid for saying what we were all thinking Nagisa.”</p><p> </p><p>“Nii-chan, rude!” Tooru wailed louder, causing his brother to laugh all the much harder.</p><p> </p><p>“Enough, all of you,” Oikawa-san stopped her children’s antics before they got out of hand, much to Tooru’s relief. Makoto rolled his eyes and zipped his mouth in an exaggerated motion, but didn’t say anything else under their mother’s stern glare. Once she deemed her oldest son pacified enough, she turned to the younger with a bright smile, “So you want to invite your new friend for the whole weekend then? Do I know them? Should I prepare something good for dinner? Any preferences?”</p><p> </p><p>Tooru tried his hardest not to blush or sigh in fond exasperation, feeling a little embarrassed by how quickly she turned from mocking to doting over a fact that he wanted to have a friend over, because <em> ‘Did she really think Iwa-chan is my only friend? What kind of impression does she have of me? My own mother no less!’ </em></p><p> </p><p>He didn’t voice any of his thoughts though and instead just smiled, “No, you don’t know them yet and no, don’t need to go out of your way so much Kaa-chan, but thanks, I appreciate it. We’re just going to have ourselves a movie night and go to practice the next day, that’s it.”</p><p> </p><p>“Oh come on, that’s just basic hospitality, it’s really not a big deal,” her smile only grew bigger as she waved off his concerns. “Since you did so much as to ask if that friend could come over, I assume it’s going to be a recurring affair, I want to make a good impression.”</p><p> </p><p>“I assure you Kaa-chan, if he doesn’t run from all the teasing remarks, there’s nothing you can do that would scare him away,” he snorted. <em> ‘In fact, I’m kind of convinced he’s going to blend in a little </em> too <em> well.’ </em></p><p> </p><p> Makoto put down his chopsticks with an audible click, “If it’s not such a ‘big deal’ then why would you even ask in the first place?”</p><p> </p><p>He was eyeing Tooru suspiciously, maybe still not quite believing his intentions or searching for some ulterior motive, Tooru didn’t know, “I was only asking because you’re here for summer break now as well and Nee-chan and Takeru are staying till the end of the week, so I didn’t want to bother any of you or something.”</p><p> </p><p>“Or something…” his brother parroted, one eyebrow raised in mild disbelief. It was mostly true, Tooru knew it was already kind of crowded and having one additional person might be a little too much, or maybe Makoto would scream at them for being “too loud” when he was<em> “trying to study” </em> (which, he never did, unless you call obsessively cleaning his numerous camera lenses in the evening <em> “studying” </em> - really, he was such a weirdo about it, he made it seem like a sacred ritual of sorts).</p><p> </p><p>“Don’t worry about it honey,” Oikawa-san assured, ruffling his hair playfully, “The more the merrier. I would really like to meet that new friend of yours and that’s why I’m asking. Are you sure you don’t want me to cook anything special?”</p><p> </p><p>He took a second to think it through. Did Suga-chan ever mention some kind of favorite food? Tooru himself had no doubt said so on many different occasions - and even if he didn’t, he ate his beloved milk bread almost everyday so by now, it really was no secret. <em> ‘But what about Suga-chan?’ </em></p><p> </p><p>He browsed through his mental catalogue of memories, trying to wrack his brain for the answer, a little hint, anything. Finally, he bumped a fist on his open palm in triumph, “Oh right, he likes spicy food, for sure.”</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> There was this one time after InterHigh when the coaches invited the entire club for a post-tournament meal. They ended up at some fancy ramen place that opened ahead of time just for them - it seemed Coach Irihata knew the owner, or something like that. Tooru wasn’t in the mood for eating at all, but then again, who would be after a crushing loss like theirs? And shouldn’t those kinds of meals be a celebratory affair? Why go out when there’s nothing to celebrate? They just lost! </em>
</p><p> </p><p><em> But the coaches and senpais were hell-bent on going through with this little “tradition” of their club’s, so there was no room for complaint. And after initial disagreement, his traitorous stomach had the audacity to </em> rumble, <em> loudly, as if to audibly show its dissatisfaction and disregard towards Tooru’s opinion on the matter. </em></p><p> </p><p>
  <em> So in no time, he was pouting at what was probably the biggest fucking bowl of shoyu ramen he has ever seen in his life, worrying how the hell was he going to eat this whole thing, when suddenly, there was a presence at his left side. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> He turned around and there was Suga-chan, bumping him playfully in the ribs, a little too sharp and accurate as usual, “Why exactly are you trying to murder your ramen with your stare?” </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> A snort to his right was all he registered before Iwa-chan slid onto the last empty stool at this side of the table, “Did it try to murder you instead?” </em>
</p><p> </p><p><em> “What the hell is that even supposed to-” he didn’t finish his anger-ridden question, for in that moment, one of the waiting staff brought forward another bowl that </em> actually <em> looked like it could kill a person and placed it in front of </em> Suga-chan <em> of all people. Tooru opened and closed his mouth like a fish out of water a few times before he collected his wits enough to splutter, “What is this monstrosity Suga-chan?” </em></p><p> </p><p>
  <em> “Hmm?” Suga-chan hummed lightly, seeming oblivious, so Tooru glared pointedly at the ramen. “Oh this. Super spicy chilli chicken noodles - the owner said they’ve been trying new things lately and this has been the hot sale item - literally and figuratively.” </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> “Angel, I’m pretty sure food shouldn’t let off so much steam,” came a worried exclamation from Suga-chan’s left, where Makki and Mattsun have sat, finally deciding to join them.  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> “And it’s all red,” the middle blocker added, for once his voice sounded something other than bored, “You can’t even see the noodles under all this chilli powder and whatever the hell else.” </em>
</p><p> </p><p><em> It seemed all of them were on the same page - this “hot sale special” looked absolutely </em> terrifying <em> and the thought that Suga-chan of all people was staring at it with wondrous excitement left them nothing short of mortified. Hell, Tooru could feel the prickle of spice in his sensitive nostrils and eyes from where he was sitting, to the point that he tried not to sneeze and tear up simultaneously, but the silver-haired teen didn’t even blink! </em></p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Instead, he broke his disposable chopsticks calmly and with an enthusiastic, “Thanks for the food~” dug right in, shoving some chilli powder-covered noodles into his mouth. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> No one in their little first-year circle had the mind to start their own food - they waited with baited breath to see what would happen to Suga-chan, wondering if they should call the coaches first, or maybe just straight up take their phones out and call an ambulance or maybe- </em>
</p><p> </p><p><em> “Mmm, shoo good~,” here Suga-chan was, </em> melting <em> in delight with the biggest and most out-of-place smile on his face. </em> ‘How the fuck can he even do that? What?’ <em> Once again Tooru found himself gaping like a fish, at least until the silver-haired teen turned his big doe eyes to him, “Hey, why aren’t you all eating? Hurry up or it will get cold.” </em></p><p> </p><p>
  <em> The weirdest thing of all was that Tooru could hear some of his senpais crying in frustrated helplessness over their loss - it seemed like they finally let the dam break after they persevered through the award ceremony without shedding a single tear. But no one in their table had the mind to do the same - they were so shell-shocked, they forgot about the tournament entirely. Like a well-oiled machine, they all finally started to eat, their motions robotic as a single thought rung out in their heads: </em>
</p><p> </p><p>‘What the fuck?’</p><p> </p><p>“Oh that works out perfectly,” his mother’s happy exclamation brought him back to present in an instant, “How about mapo tofu then? We haven’t had it in a while.”</p><p> </p><p>“Pfft,” Makoto snorted, as he collected his now empty dishes to the kitchen sink, “don’t make it too spicy though, or Tooru won’t survive.”</p><p> </p><p>“Shut up!” he bristled at his brother's implication. Sure, he might not be the biggest fan of spicy food, but he could handle it <em> just fine </em>...to some extent. Ignoring Makoto’s snickering, he turned to his mother and smiled, “That sounds perfect Kaa-chan, thank you.”</p><p> </p><p>“Don’t sweat it,” she ruffled his hair again, a smile growing even more fond, if possible, “Tell that friend of yours we can’t wait to meet him.”</p><p> </p><p>“Sure!” Tooru beamed at her, excitement coming back in full force, because <em> ‘Yes! This is going to be so much fun! Phew, this went less awful than I thought it would.’  </em></p><p> </p><p>Aside from that one comment, nobody really teased him that much - his brother especially seemed kind of mild in his teasing, not that Tooru minded. If anything, he was content with this turn of events, thank you very much.</p><p> </p><p>Little did he know, he won’t be let off that easily. </p><p> </p><p>***</p><p> </p><p>His brother waited the entire day before he decided to bug him some more about the so-called “friend issue”.</p><p> </p><p>Tooru was finishing the last of his assignments, listening to his favorite playlist on repeat, because nothing quite set you in the mood for maths like some upbeat pop tunes to energize your brain. Which didn’t really work for any other subjects as it was, well, a little bit <em> too </em> distractive, but math always came easy to him, so doing homework was more of a chill than it was a chore. Still, he made sure to plug in his headphones, not about to be like a certain mean bastard who liked to blast his music on speakers, just to spite them…</p><p> </p><p>When said bastard sneaked up on him and yanked his headset unceremoniously, “Ouch! What the hell?!” Tooru jumped in his seat, reflexively crossing out the entire equation because of a violent twitch of his hand. Just <em> perfect. </em></p><p> </p><p>Makoto loomed over his seat and grinned proudly, content that he managed to scare him, “I wanted to talk to you about something.”</p><p> </p><p>He took a step away so that Tooru could turn around in his chair and grumble unhappily, “Could choose a little less rude way to go about it.”</p><p> </p><p>Which Makoto heard just fine and shrugged, “Well yeah, but where’s the fun in that?”</p><p> </p><p>The younger Oikawa stared at his brother pointedly, one eyebrow raised, “So what is it?”</p><p> </p><p>The older didn’t reply right away, instead leaning slightly on Tooru’s desk, hands planted firmly in the back pockets of his overly ripped jeans. Really, nowadays it felt as if Makoto was trying his damndest to complete the “bad boy” kind of look he had imagined. All the piercings littering his ears, messy undercut and fondness for black clothes just screamed “edgy teenager”, but he somehow made it work without it being <em> too much. </em></p><p> </p><p>Maybe it was his brother’s love for fashion that did the trick - Tooru knew for a fact that he was already looking for an internship in a photography studio specialising in fashion, despite having just begun his major. As it was, the older Oikawa seemed hell-bent on trying out every weird trend he could on himself, hence the uncomfortably tight jeans and thin, gold-rimmed glasses that he managed to break twice already by sitting on them, because he forgot where he had placed them yet again.</p><p> </p><p>He still paid a pretty penny to repair them, because <em> “fuck you Tooru, I look amazing in those, it’s worth the sacrifice” </em> and honestly, Tooru couldn’t help but agree, albeit a little begrudingly. Not because it wasn’t the truth, but because he’d rather die than admit out loud that his brother was right about something.</p><p> </p><p>The two of them have always been like this - as the age gap wasn’t as big between them as it was between Makoto and Nagisa, the two brothers have always competed with each other, about every single thing. They teased each other a lot too, but it always felt like Makoto had a slight advantage in that regard, never failing to get up Tooru’s nose. Tooru blamed it on the 4 extra years of getting the gist of the “Oikawa ways” of annoying people.</p><p> </p><p>It didn’t mean they could never be serious about something or that they never supported each other. There were plenty of times Makoto helped him out in a pinch, sometimes joking about it being a favor that he would get back in the future, but mostly just being the reliable older brother anyone and their mother would suspect him to be.</p><p> </p><p>So now, just from the fact that he took a while to think about his next words, Tooru could tell this wasn’t so much about ruffling his feathers, as it was a genuine concern of some sorts on Makoto’s part, “So about that friend that’s coming over - it’s a guy, right?”</p><p> </p><p>Or maybe just curiosity, that puzzled Tooru a lot. He tilted his head in confusion and answered truthfully, “Yeah, it’s a friend from my team. What about it?”</p><p> </p><p>“Oh nothing really,” Makoto hummed lowly, puzzling Tooru even further. Then, in what seemed to be a bout of creativity, his eyes flashed a dangerous glint before he smirked, “Just, you know, you were <em> so </em> excited about the whole thing, and blushing so cutely, I had a sneaky suspicion you were inviting a girl over instead.”</p><p> </p><p>See, here Tooru made another mistake - the suspense between Makoto’s words caused him to lower his guard down and he mindlessly searched for the abandoned cup of tea on his desk. And of course, just as he took a sip, his brother finally decided to say that last piece and Tooru had to suddenly fight back the urge to spit it all over his desk littered with math spreadsheets.</p><p> </p><p>Which ended up in some awful sort of wheeze that made the tea go down the wrong pipe and he choked, <em> hard, </em> falling into a cough fit that has for sure looked comical, from how hard he still tried to keep his mouth close throughout it all.</p><p> </p><p>And obviously, Makoto was just <em> delighted </em>, never one to miss out on the opportunity to laugh at his little brother’s misery.</p><p> </p><p>It took Tooru a minute or two to get his breathing back to normal, but even then, his voice sounded a little strained when he asked, “What the hell?! Where did that come from?”</p><p> </p><p>“Like I said, it’s just a sneaky little suspicion of mine,” Makoto said, not really replying to the question at all. “I haven’t seen you so excited in a while little brother, can’t blame me for feeling a little concerned now, can you?”</p><p> </p><p>He patted Tooru’s shoulder in what was probably meant to be reassurance, making the most exaggerated wistful expression the world has ever seen. The setter scoffed and shook off his brother’s <em> “concern” </em>, “Would you just freaking drop it? Suga-chan is just a friend from my team, not some kinda maiden I would introduce to a family. What kind of idea even is that?”</p><p> </p><p><em> ‘Seriously, what the hell was he even thinking?!’ </em> Tooru felt like his brain was getting deep fried from all the confusion. <em> ‘Why do I have a feeling that he imagined the entire scenario in which he greeted some random girl like a future bride, whisked her away from the common room to give her a pep talk about persevering my innocence and how- No, no, no. Nope. Not even gonna finish that one.’ </em></p><p> </p><p>When it comes to Makoto’s stupid ideas, one could never expect anything. He had once convinced Tooru when they were kids that leaving his window open in the night would make it easier for the aliens to abduct him… in the middle of winter. So all he really got from that particular experience was a nasty cold, but his alien obsession did not diminish…</p><p> </p><p>Yeah, he never quite recovered from that one.</p><p> </p><p>“Oooh~, so his name is <em> Suga-chan </em> , I see,” Makoto’s self-satisfied hum stopped Tooru’s mental rambling and he quickly realized that he had already walked right into one of his brother's little traps, whatever it was. <em> ‘Shit.’ </em> “How cute, little brother, and awfully familiar for someone who you’ve apparently just met, hmm?”</p><p> </p><p><em> ‘Where is he trying to go with that?’ </em> Tooru couldn’t help but wonder, but only said out loud, “That’s not really any of your business Nii-chan. Sure, me and Suga-chan just met, but we’re great friends. He’s an amazing player and even better teammate, I can tell you.”</p><p> </p><p>Whatever Makoto had expected to hear, he didn’t get, because he tutted to himself before asking, “Just a friend you say?”</p><p> </p><p>Tooru tilted his head in confusion, “Yeah, that’s what I just said. What, should there be anything else?”</p><p> </p><p>He really had no idea what his brother was trying to imply here. Was something Tooru had said off? He didn’t think so. After a few fruitless seconds of cracking down the issue, he just shrugged it off, chucking it out as Makoto being his usual, cryptic self yet again.</p><p> </p><p>“Oh no, nothing at all,” the older Oikawa waved the younger off and hauled himself up from his slightly slouched position, closing the distance to the door with a few casual strides, “Can’t wait to meet that ‘Suga-chan’ then~”</p><p> </p><p>One last tap on the door, a pleasant grin thrown over his shoulder that seemed a little off to Tooru and his brother was gone. He couldn’t quite tell what it was that Makoto wanted from him honestly, but the longer he thought about it, the less sense it made, so with a loud, “Argh, what the hell?!” he threw his arms up in surrender and did a half-turn in his swivel chair to look forlornly at his scattered assignments, not sure if he could focus on them properly anymore.</p><p> </p><p>Meanwhile, contrary to his brother’s belief, Oikawa Makoto got exactly what he wanted, <em> ‘Just a friend, my ass.’ </em></p><p> </p><p>***</p><p> </p><p>“Ugh, I want to die,” Tooru whined loudly, slumping dejectedly and forcing his feet to move forward only by sheer willpower, “Suga-chan, I’m so tired.”</p><p> </p><p>Suga-chan hummed weakly in agreement, “Yeah, those last few runs were just too much.”</p><p> </p><p>Training in the blasting heat of summer is tiring in and of itself - but for the air-conditioned gymnasium, Tooru was sure they really would’ve died. Burnt to a crisp or melted in a sweaty puddle on the floor. But there was also the constant threat of Mizoguchi-sensei and his beloved suicides looming over their heads, made all the more dreadful by the scorching temperature outside.</p><p> </p><p>Usually, every training session began with a few laps around the school and it was enough of a foretaste to make them pledge to never go out for a run in this heat. Ever again.</p><p> </p><p>Yeah, no such chance when you’re friends with Makki and Mattsun, unfortunately.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> They were trying to mop the floor at the speed of light, their minds already focused on cold showers and non-sweaty change of clothes waiting in the locker room. Tooru just wanted to go home, lie down on his comfy bed with air-con in full blast, maybe watch a movie or something… </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Oh right, movies! It was Friday already - Tooru was so tired he had almost forgotten, but now that he remembered that today was “the day”, he instantly gained a little pep in his step, all the more determined to finish this tedious task as fast as possible, to get home even sooner. He and Suga-chan will have such a great time-  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> “You look creepy when you smile like that,” Mattsun pointed out in a flat tone and on his side, Makki snorted, adding, “Yeah, muttering under your nose and smiling like a perv, are you planning on abducting some poor, unsuspecting kiddo from the playground or something?” </em>
</p><p> </p><p><em> It took Tooru exactly two seconds to venture back from the dreamland, cheerful images of the fun things he and Suga-chan will do disappearing in a flash as his brain registered the pink-head’s words. And all the response he could muster was a more-than-offended “Haah?!” and a death-glare he usually reserved for the most </em> disgusting <em> opponents he has met on court. Mainly Ushiwaka. </em></p><p> </p><p>
  <em> “Kidnapping preschoolers aside,” Iwa-chan interjected in a matter-of-fact tone, “you really shouldn’t be so happy over the funeral we’ll have to hold for Suga’s sanity.” He folded his palms on the handle of the mop and tilted his head back, pondering something, “Then again, I guess that’s the whole point. You’re about to turn into a serial killer after all.” </em>
</p><p> </p><p><em> Iwa-chan was the last person Tooru had expected to pick up that shitty conversation thread and turn against him like that, but here he was, shooting biting remarks with a sniper’s precision and it was </em> outrageous <em> , “You are perfectly alive you meanie, shut your trap before I do it for you.” </em></p><p> </p><p>
  <em> He received only a snort in response, which ticked him off even more. He huffed in annoyance and resigned to have a pout permanently etched onto his face, when Makki decided he hadn’t had enough teasing yet and added, “Oh I don’t know about that, he seems pretty traumatised already. Maybe it’s like, a slow-killing poison, takes some time to fully kick in.” </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> “And when it does…” Mattsun made a dramatic pause then, with a surgical precision waiting for the moment their patience would run out… to start humming a funeral march, quiet at first and then growing louder in an exaggerated crescendo. And Makki, in his usual fashion, joined in on the chaos. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> “Shhh!” Suga-chan shushed the two weirdos, but it was too late, their little self-appointed procession was already so loud some of the upperclassmen turned their heads in their direction, faces full of exasperated disbelief. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> And Tooru, well... kind of snapped, a little. He clutched the mop he was holding harder and in a sudden fit of creativity, swung with it like a really dirty and really disgusting pole, aiming at the pink-haired teen’s side. The other avoided the wet slap narrowly and grinned ferally, “Oh no, you don’t.” </em>
</p><p> </p><p><em> And after that, it was pure chaos. They started chasing each other around, waving the mops like crazy and all Tooru could think of was </em> ‘Oh my god, what even is this thing? What the hell are we doing?’ <em> Even Iwa-chan joined in, though all he did was to swat at their legs as they were running all over the place, trying to trip them and maybe, make them stop. </em></p><p> </p><p>
  <em> It seemed Suga-chan also wanted them to stop with this nonsense, but unlike Iwa-chan, he succeeded. And was a lot more creative about it too, using the mop in the weirdest pole jump Tooru has ever seen and nailing a nasty kick at Makki’s butt, making him topple over and dragging Mattsun with him, like a human domino. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> “Ouch! What the fuck Suga, that fucking hurt!” Makki whined, massaging his ass with a pained expression, but the libero started laughing uncontrollably then, probably from the sheer ridiculousness of what he just did and really, what can you do? Suga-chan’s laugh has been scientifically proven (by countless observation studies) to be infectious, so of course he had to join in. And in no time, the others did so as well, ceasing their impromptu battle and cackling in absolute delight. </em>
</p><p> </p><p><em> “Oh I see you still have lots of energy,” their laughter died the instant Mizoguchi spoke, their heads turning to face the coach, eyes full of dread. Tooru gulped loudly, praying to every deity he could think of to </em> ‘please, spare us, show us mercy,’ <em> “That means you wouldn’t mind doing a few more laps, hmm? 30 suicides!” </em></p><p> </p><p>
  <em> No such luck, they were doomed. Mizoguchi’s glare was so stern they didn’t dare make a peep in protest, already resigned to an additional half-an-hour-or-so of torture. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>So yeah, of course he was blaming Makki for this one. That damn pink-head, starting that ridiculous conversation and then being his obnoxious, annoying self to the bone. It was <em> entirely </em> his fault, no doubt about that.</p><p> </p><p>No, Tooru wasn’t biased in the slightest - it was the one and only objective truth. </p><p> </p><p>“Anyway, I’m glad that we still got enough time to take a shower afterwards,” Suga-chan mused, effectively erasing all thoughts of revenge on a certain pink-headed menace from Tooru’s mind. “But damn, I still wouldn’t mind a nice, cool popsicle.”</p><p> </p><p>The setter hummed in agreement - despite the heat of late afternoon not being as excruciating as it was merely an hour or two ago, he was still feeling a little too flushed from all the exercise they did. Cold ice-cream sounded like heaven at that moment, “I should have some at home, we always stock up in the summer cause Takeru likes them so much.”</p><p> </p><p>Suga-chan somehow still had the energy to add a little skip to his steps from time to time “Takeru is your nephew right?”</p><p> </p><p>“Mhm, you should be able to meet him today,” <em> ‘and who knows how that will go.’ </em> Takeru was a precious kid, but he was growing up to be a mean little bean, shaping up into the regular “Oikawa ways”. Tooru himself thought that it was too much to have so many Oikawas in one room and he was part of that mess in the first place. There’s so much scheming that can happen simultaneously before the house explodes.</p><p> </p><p>He sure hoped he wouldn’t be the first one to combust.</p><p> </p><p>***</p><p> </p><p>It took them maybe two more minutes to finally arrive at Tooru’s and Suga had to fight the urge not to whistle. He imagined the house to be on the bigger side and he sure wasn’t wrong with his assumption - it had to have been spacious enough to accommodate Tooru’s parents and siblings after all. </p><p> </p><p>What he didn’t expect was just how modern it was, all white walls, stony details and ebony front doors, so different from the rural and quaint atmosphere Suga was used to. Here, the entire neighborhood looked newer and more expensive, but the Oikawa household still managed to stand out among them.</p><p> </p><p>Collective personality of the inhabitants? Probably.</p><p> </p><p>His theory was quickly proven correct actually. Tooru fished for the keys to the front doors, the small gates being surprisingly open - then again, they probably only closed it for the night, which made sense. The setter finally managed to find them underneath his sweaty gym clothes, judging from the face he made as he pulled them out. Suga couldn’t help but notice the little keychain he has, some colorful cartoonish animal - a bear? a cat? He couldn’t quite tell from just that quick a glance.</p><p> </p><p>The doors opened with a soft click and they stepped inside, Tooru fumbling with the lock to close them and shouting over his shoulder, “I’m home!” just as Suga chirped enthusiastically, “Sorry for intruding~”, slipping off his shoes and setting them neatly in the genkan.</p><p> </p><p>A short flurry of padded footsteps later there was a sound of a shutter going off, and Suga had to blink away the dark spots that appeared in his vision from the flash light. Tooru recovered faster than him however and scoffed, “What the hell was that about?!”</p><p> </p><p>Suga craned his neck a little to see who he was talking to and caught sight of the self-proclaimed paparazzi. Same hair as Tooru’s, just a shade darker, tousled messily all over the place in what was probably meant to be “artistic disarray”, cut significantly shorter on the sides. Big, thin-rimmed glasses that did nothing to obscure the mischievous glint in stormy grey eyes and a self-satisfied smirk that was just like Tooru’s too, but multiplied by ten. And on his neck, hung a professional-looking camera, the evidence of the sweet little crime he committed just now.</p><p> </p><p>His older brother, for sure - the resemblance was so striking Suga was taken aback a little, but he soon recovered as the older Oikawa whistled in mock-amazement, “Would you look at that - you really do have another friend besides Hajime. Color me impressed.”</p><p> </p><p>Suga couldn’t help but snort, just as Tooru tried (and failed) to seem unbothered by the teasing remark. <em> ‘It seems the fondness for making people squirm runs in the family too. Oh this will be interesting.’ </em></p><p> </p><p>If it would be like having five Tooru’s in the room instead of one, Suga was in for a ride. He did his best not to let his own smirk show, content on letting the show unfold for a little while before he joined in on the fun (Tooru will pout at him for the rest of the evening, probably, but Suga just couldn’t resist, his inner devil feeling in his element already).</p><p> </p><p>Just then, another set of footsteps informed them of someone else joining them. This time it was an older woman wearing an apron, her chocolate hair tied up in a neat bun and golden-brown eyes crinkling with her bright smile. <em> ‘That’s probably Tooru’s mother.’ </em> “Welcome home darling! And that must be your friend then, it’s so nice to meet you! What’s your name sweetie?”</p><p> </p><p>She came to ruffle Tooru’s hair affectionately and soon turned to Suga enthusiastically, shooting words at a rapid-fire speed, like a machine gun, almost. Suga beamed at her in return, “Sugawara Koushi! Thanks for having me, Oikawa-san.”</p><p> </p><p>Oikawa-san smiled even brighter, “We’re glad to have you here, Koushi-kun. Now come on, dinner is almost ready - you boys must be hungry after such a long training, right? Makoto, don’t stand in the way like that. Shoo, shoo!”</p><p> </p><p>The older brother took his sweet time to answer, not willing to stop the staring contest he and Tooru were apparently having, but eventually, his smirk warped into a <em> saccharinely </em> sweet smile as he chimed, “Sure thing~ By the way, nice to have finally met you Suga-kun, I’ve heard <em> so </em> much about you~”</p><p> </p><p><em> ‘Oh god, this is like having a whiplash,’ </em> Suga had a fleeting thought, interrupted by Tooru’s deadpan voice, “Oh <em> did you </em> now?”</p><p> </p><p>“Come on slackers, I need someone to help me set the table!” another female voice shouted from down the hallway, where presumably the kitchen was. Suga pulled Tooru by the hem of his turquoise t-shirt, realising he probably won’t make any move on his own, not about to “lose” in whatever psychic competition he was having with his brother. </p><p> </p><p> The owner of the voice quickly turned out to be Tooru’s older sister, Nagisa-san, and Takeru-kun’s mother. She looked like a carbon copy of Oikawa-san, except for the eyes, which were the same shade of grey Makoto-san’s were. </p><p> </p><p>And Takeru-kun, well. He seemed like a good kid, but he didn’t pay them any mind, too absorbed in the video game he was playing. </p><p> </p><p>Nagisa-san only took a quick glance to assess Tooru’s slightly sour expression and Makoto-san’s wicked cheshire grin to know exactly what had happened. <em> ‘So she’s like the Observant Tooru,’ </em> Suga mused, as she tutted at the older of the brothers, “You really should let Tooru off the hook sometimes.”</p><p> </p><p>Makoto-san pouted, “Aw come on, you know I can’t give up the fun of teasing our cute little brother. He’s just <em> so </em> adorable when he gets mad.” Nagisa-san rolled her eyes, but Makoto didn’t notice it, or rather ignored it in favor of leaning bodily against the dining room wall and casually inspecting the photos he took, zooming in and out this way or that. <em> ‘A Snarky Tooru then,’ </em> Suga ultimately decided.</p><p> </p><p>Tooru bristled at that, no doubt a retort forming on his tongue, but he didn’t get a chance to say anything as his mother stormed back into the kitchen and started fumbling around, “All right, seems the food needs a few more minutes~ Anybody wants tea? Oh wait, maybe a cold drink would be better, since it’s so hot outside. Tooru, crack some ice into the glass pitcher, will you?”</p><p> </p><p>She was flitting around in such excitement, it kind of reminded him of the way Tooru talks in that sing-song manner of his, but amplified to the level of alien movies excitement, or even higher. <em> ‘Over-enthusiastic Tooru it is then.’ </em></p><p> </p><p>He smiled lightly to himself, already basking in the chaotic but homey atmosphere around him, as Tooru started pouring cold water over the ice and adding a few slices of lemon, Makoto-san covered his camera lens with a round cap, preventing it from getting damaged and Nagisa-san forced Takeru-kun to put down his game and help lay the dishes. Suga took some of the bowls from the boy, seeing that he grabbed too many and they were wobbling dangerously, “Here, I’ll help you out.” </p><p> </p><p>He earned himself a mute little nod in appreciation. Together, they set the table in no time and as soon as he was finished, Suga had to defend himself from the inquisitive stare the boy was leveling him with. <em> ‘Geez, what is it with the scary focus, does it run in the family too?’ </em> It was the exact same stare Tooru tended to have on court, when he was scrutinising every tiniest detail of play and every slightest quirk of their opponents. <em> ‘This kid is the Creepy Tooru, what the hell.’ </em></p><p> </p><p>Gulping down the sudden uncomfortable feeling that has risen in his throat, he tried to appear as calm as he could, “Is something the matter?”</p><p> </p><p>Takeru-kun squinted at him for a second, before asking in a matter-of-fact tone, “You and Tooru are in the same club, right?”</p><p> </p><p><em> ‘Where did this come from?’ </em> Suga blinked in confusion, but answered nonetheless, “Yeah, why?”</p><p> </p><p>The boy scrunched his eyebrows in thought, “Then why’s your tracksuit different from Tooru’s?”</p><p> </p><p>“Suga-chan is a libero on our team,” Tooru chimed in, the rest of the family slowly filing into the room to settle down at the table, “Libero has to be clearly visible, so his uniform has to be different from the other players, you know this silly.”</p><p> </p><p>Takeru groaned in annoyance, in the usual way kids do when they aren’t understood by <em> “stupid grown-ups” </em>, “Of course I know, but that’s only for uniforms, not club tracksuit! But Suga’s is slightly different, see?”</p><p> </p><p>He pointed down at Suga’s track pants - after showering, they both ended up changing into their club tracksuits, consisting of the usual turquoise t-shirt and white sweatpants with a wide stripe on the side, the same color as the tee. The only thing they forgone were the jackets, the temperature outside being way too high to endure wearing one. But what was Takeru-kun talking abou-</p><p> </p><p>“Oh right, it is a little different!” Tooru exclaimed in surprise, “I didn’t even notice. Did the coaches give you another one because of how big the last one was?”</p><p> </p><p><em> ‘Oh right, that,’ </em> Suga has almost forgotten about it too. And no wonder - who would want to remember such an embarrassing thing?!</p><p> </p><p>They have received the official club tracksuits a few days after the try-outs. The coaches have collected everyone’s sizes even before that, but for some reason, his <em> still </em> turned out to be <em> too big. </em></p><p> </p><p>Or rather, it was just the pants being too long, to the point that he had majestically tripped over them and flopped down in a graceless heap in front of the <em> whole team </em> , right as they were boarding the bus to Sendai City Gymnasium on the first day of InterHigh. It was a disaster - Makki was wheezing for the entire ride there, the rest of the first-years throwing in some jokes about tiny legs or whatever. Suga was not <em> that </em> short, thank you very much - it’s not his fault literally all his friends are beanpoles!</p><p> </p><p>So with his pride being gravely wounded, he had to roll up the pant legs over his ankles to avoid falling again, like a <em> goddamn </em> fool. Worst thing was, he couldn’t do much about it, cause the rest of the tracksuit fitted him perfectly, so there was no point in asking for exchanging it. Instead, he suffered through Makki’s jokes, deflecting them with jabs a <em> little </em> more forceful than usual, and kept rolling the pants up until the tournament ended, when he finally had the time and energy to solve this problem.</p><p> </p><p>The solution being, cutting down the excessive material and sewing a pair of white elastic cuffs onto the ends, that he took from an old, too-small hoodie of his to make them not bunch up at the ankles too much, cause that was just <em> the worst. </em></p><p> </p><p>Even so, damn was Takeru-kun observant too. <em> ‘How did he even notice such a small detail? Oh he will be a great setter too, for sure.’ </em>“No, I just shortened them in my spare time. They fit fine after all, just that they were a little too long.”</p><p> </p><p>“Dinner is ready!” Oikawa-san’s happy chirp interrupted the impressed whistle Tooru let out at Suga’s admission. They all shuffled onto their respective seats and for the first time Suga could take a look at what smelled so <em> godly </em> from the moment he stepped into the Oikawa household and he almost took a double back from the initial surprise because, <em> ‘There’s no way Tooru knows it’s my favorite right? I’m sure I didn’t tell him...is he a wizard or what?’ </em></p><p> </p><p>But it seemed Oikawa-san took his expression as a bad sign, for she cautiously stated, “Tooru said you like spicy food, so I thought you’d like it. Oh my god, but not everyone likes tofu, it has such a specific taste, where did I have my head?”</p><p> </p><p>Figuring that actions speak with more volume than words, Suga wordlessly took a bite and immediately had to fight the urge to simply <em> melt </em> from how good it was. He still made sure some of his internal euphoria showed on his face as he replied cheerfully, “It tastes wonderful~ Thank you for your consideration - it is my favorite actually, I don't know how you’ve guessed it.”</p><p> </p><p>Oikawa-san’s reaction surprised him then, because aside from her mood visibly lighting up, she pointed a finger at Tooru with smug self-satisfaction showing, “Hah! See, am I a psychic or what? I’m amazing at this mother thing.”</p><p> </p><p>Tooru simply rolled his eyes, “Yeah yeah, congratulations, you’ve managed to make Suga-chan’s favorite food by pure coincidence. I’m gonna file that information for future reference by the way.”</p><p> </p><p>“Eh, you’re no fun,” Oikawa-san pouted in a completely child-like manner, before she turned an inquisitive stare to Suga, “Anyway, I’m glad you like it then Koushi-kun. So, you and Tooru are teammates right? Did you also go to Seijoh for volleyball?”</p><p> </p><p>Suga had to gulp down another mouthful of tofu (and god, was it just absolutely <em> perfect </em>, only a little less spicy than he was used to - probably so that Tooru could handle it, as he had noticed the setter wasn’t very fond of spice) before answering, “Yeah, for the most part. I live pretty far away actually, but I don’t mind the long ride as long as I get to play volleyball on such a high level.”</p><p> </p><p>Oikawa-san nodded in understanding while Makoto mumbled under his breath something that sounded suspiciously like “Those volleyball freaks.” Suga had a hard time trying not to snort at that, but he had a conversation to follow. After all, there was always a lot of focus on the guests, especially since he has visited Tooru’s for the first time. Seems like a motherly thing to do to question her son’s new friend like that (his mother totally went full-on interrogation mode when he brought Makki home too), “Did your parents not mind you going to school this far?”</p><p> </p><p>“Not at all, my mom actually encouraged me. She likes the high level of academics, as I’m sure every parent would,” he smiled fondly to himself, thinking about all the other reasons his mother supported his decision to go to Seijoh. <em> ‘She’s just wonderful, that’s all.’ </em></p><p> </p><p>“Hahaha, true, every parent worries about their children’s grades… even if they don’t seem to share the same concerns,” she stared pointedly at Makoto, who shrugged in response, “I still got into uni, I don’t understand what you’re talking about.”</p><p> </p><p>“You annoyed every teacher by not paying attention or sleeping in class and then got perfect grades regardless,” Tooru stated matter-of-factly, “Got a lot of complaints from the faculty for all that.”</p><p> </p><p>Makoto grinned impishly at him, “Sucks that I don’t care about their opinions then.”</p><p> </p><p>“Anyway~” Oikawa-san chimed in before either of the brothers could say anything else. “What does your mother do Koushi-kun?”</p><p> </p><p><em> ‘They really are all so alike, it’s like watching three Tooru’s collide,’ </em> Suga snickered lightly to himself, but out loud replied “My mom’s a tailor. She runs a little fabric shop too, it’s been in the family for ages actually. I help her out in my spare time.”</p><p> </p><p>“Ooh~,” Tooru hummed in understanding, “so that’s where the sewing thing comes from. Suga-chan has many talents, I see.”</p><p> </p><p>“And he’s such a sweetheart too,” Nagisa-san interjected, finally adding her own thoughts into the conversation. “Unlike you, who only eats, plays volleyball and binges those shitty movies.”</p><p> </p><p>“Hey!” Tooru bristled. “Don’t say that! I’m studying too.”</p><p> </p><p>Makoto snorted, “Like that makes a difference.”</p><p> </p><p>“You little-”</p><p> </p><p>“I’m rather glad he doesn’t try to help with the chores,” Oikawa-san mused. “It would be like the cocoa powder story all over.”</p><p> </p><p>Tooru’s face suddenly turned white as a sheet as he pleaded, “Please don’t bring up that story again,” while Makoto clapped his hands in excitement, “Oh yeah, embarrassing story time, I was waiting for this.”</p><p> </p><p>The setter looked at Suga with a puppy-eyed expression, mentally begging him to<em> ‘please, save me Suga-chan’ </em> but… he was feeling a little mean. So with the most innocent expression on earth, he asked, “What about the cocoa powder?”</p><p> </p><p>“Nooo…” Tooru groaned loudly just as Makoto guffawed in triumph, “Hahaha, I like you already. Okay, so when Tooru was in primary…”</p><p> </p><p>***</p><p> </p><p>“Ugh, I wanna die even more now,” Tooru whined dejectedly, slumping on his bed with the biggest pout Suga has ever seen him make.<em> ‘I kinda feel a little bit sorry now.’ </em> “Why would you do this to me, Suga-chan you big bully.”</p><p> </p><p>Once he asked for that cocoa powder story (which was worth hearing by a long shot, cause oh god, Suga was still cracking up a bit every time he recalled it) it seemed as if all the restraints snapped and everyone joined in on the competition of Who Could Make Tooru Embarrassed the Most. Even Takeru-kun added his own piece, which was just as precious as every other bit of blackmail material Suga got from that single conversation.</p><p> </p><p>Though he made sure not to overdo it <em> too </em> much, sharing a few funny stories of himself as well, to make Tooru feel a little reassured. It seemed it didn’t have as great effect as he hoped for, but that was alright, he still had a hidden trump card up his sleeve.</p><p> </p><p>He flopped down onto the bed right next to the setter, noticing on the off-hand how comfy it was. “Don’t give me that, it was just a bit of harmless teasing, it wasn’t <em> that </em> bad. Some of them were kinda cute.”</p><p> </p><p>“That’s the whole problem!” Tooru rolled onto his back just so he could throw his arms in the air in surrender. <em> ‘What a drama queen.’ </em> “I don’t wanna seem cute, I only want to show you the cool side.”</p><p> </p><p><em> ‘That’s… oddly endearing.’ </em> Suga smiled to himself, a barely there quirk of his lips that the other wouldn’t notice. <em> ‘But I think that ship has sailed a long time ago. Sometime between alien movies and hand-holding. Wait, what the hell am I even thinking?’ </em></p><p> </p><p>He shook his head off the intrusive thoughts and focused on the task at hand. He leaned over the edge of the bed to reach for his sports bag abandoned in the corner and rummaged in it searching for that thin little- Ah, there it was! Grinning, he sat back up and waved his treasure in front of the setter’s face, “So, how about a little something to cheer you up? Or are you just going to sulk forever?”</p><p> </p><p>Tooru squinted at what he was holding and soon widened his eyes in excitement, “You recorded the latest V-League match?”</p><p> </p><p>“For sure I did - Tachibana Red Falcons versus Shweiden Adlers, at your service,” Suga was pleased to see the other’s expression brightening up. <em> ‘Applause for Suga from the past for predicting this to happen,’ </em> “I remember that you wanted to watch this match but couldn’t because of training running overtime, but I just so happened to set up a recording for the very same reason, so I thought we could watch it today.”</p><p> </p><p>“Huh, how thoughtful of you Suga-chan, do you always plan things like that? Oh wait a second,” Tooru leveled him with a suspicious glare, “don’t tell me you did that to avoid the alien movies!”</p><p> </p><p>He couldn’t help himself, he broke down into laughter, made even more forceful by the setter’s accusatory shouting, “You did, didn’t you?! Suga-chan was trying to bail on me!” </p><p> </p><p><em> ‘Oh god, if it goes on like that, he’ll just keep pouting for the rest of the evening,’ </em> so Suga tried with all his might to get his breathing back to normal and placated, “No of course I didn’t, silly, I just figured we had the time to watch this too. It’s still bright after all and wouldn’t the night create a better atmosphere for the alien movies? You know, make it more thrilling and scary.”</p><p> </p><p>He really d<em> id </em> have precisely this reason in mind (aside from the fact that he knew he would have to make up for the teasing <em> somehow </em>) so he was all the more glad when Tooru nodded contemplatively, “Suga-chan really thought everything through, so cool~ Alrighty, let’s watch it then!”</p><p> </p><p>They set up a laptop on Tooru’s coffee table (<em> ‘why the fuck does he have a coffee table in his room?’ </em> ) and settled comfortably side by side with their backs perched up on the side of the bed. They didn’t go far into the recording when Tooru gasped in surprise and squeezed Suga’s arm painfully hard, “Oh my god, <em> oh my god </em>, how did I miss that?!”</p><p> </p><p>His eyes were shining with such unadulterated excitement Suga had a sudden urge to coo, which he squashed in an instant and settled for a puzzled but amused smile, “Miss what?”</p><p> </p><p>“Look at the- Oh no, the camera is on Adlers’ now, come on show us the Falcons again. Ah, there he is!” he pointed at the Falcons’ bench right before the teams entered the court. More specifically, he pointed at their coach, but why would he be so excited about him, Suga had no clue. And it showed, for Tooru quickly added, “It’s José Blanco! He’s been like, my volleyball idol since ages! Oh gosh, I can’t believe I didn’t know he was coming to Japan to coach Falcons, <em> what the hell. </em>”</p><p> </p><p>“Oh~ I see,” Suga hummed in understanding. “Was he a setter then?”</p><p> </p><p>Tooru nodded animatedly, “Yup, from Argentina. When me and Iwa-chan were in elementary, we got to see a match between Japan and Argentina that happened in Sendai.”</p><p> </p><p>“Oh right, I do recall something like that,” Suga chimed in, “I couldn’t get the tickets though.”</p><p> </p><p>“Haha, yeah, it was hard to get them, but we got lucky,” Tooru’s gaze was directed at the screen, but from his faraway expression Suga could tell he wasn’t actually looking, rather reliving the memory, “We came to support Japan, but I couldn’t stop watching Argentina. They had a young ace that clearly wasn’t in his element and gradually, it started looking like he would get switched out, but the coach didn’t do that.”</p><p> </p><p>“What did he do then?” Suga asked, growing all the more immersed in the story.</p><p> </p><p>“The switched the setter instead, to a veteran setter, 38 years old at the time.”</p><p> </p><p>“Wow,” Suga whistled in amazement. “You don’t really see many players that age getting to play often.”</p><p> </p><p>“I know right? But anyway,” Tooru paused for a bit, absentmindedly watching Falcons talk during their opponents’ time-out, “that setter was Blanco, obviously, and his presence on court changed the teams playstyle drastically. He didn’t rely on that ace too much, using every spiker who was at a position to score and slowly but surely brought back the ace’s confidence with easy-to-hit tosses and well-timed plays. In the end, Argentina won and everyone praised the young star for making such a great comeback, but honestly the real star of that match was-”</p><p> </p><p>“-the veteran setter who meticulously helped him get back up by simply doing his job,” Suga finished, quickly catching up.</p><p> </p><p>Tooru nodded with a bright smile splitting his face, “Exactly. It was so cool, I knew then and there that I wanted to be a setter.”</p><p> </p><p>“Huh, that sounds so nice,” Suga was seriously having a great time uncovering all those new sides of Tooru. There was just something about the absence of a crowd that made the setter seem a lot more unguarded, in a good sense. Like, he allowed more of his feelings to show and spoke a lot more, which was nice, so Suga made sure to reciprocate.</p><p> </p><p>They watched the rest of the match animatedly discussing plays, figuring out ways how to improve some of them, making plans to try some the next time they got a chance or just generally gasping in awe at the impressiveness of professional volleyball. It was a whole new world entirely, on such a high level Suga wondered if they would ever reach it.</p><p> </p><p>Well, Tooru definitely could. He definitely admired the setter even more now after hearing what has made him want to pursue this path. Suga never really had a volleyball epiphany like that, never had an idol he followed - volleyball was just something he started doing on a whim and came to like it as years progressed, to the point it became <em> so </em> important to him, he couldn’t go without it.</p><p> </p><p>Tooru, on the other hand, seemed to have even stronger feelings about the matter. With a sudden realisation, Suga mused, “You know, if Blanco is in Japan now, then maybe there’s a chance you could meet him. Wouldn’t that be amazing?”</p><p> </p><p>“I wonder,” the other sighed contemplatively. “Well I think I would like to have a chance to talk to him. I bet I could learn a lot. But then again, you know what they say about meeting your idols.”</p><p> </p><p>“Right,” he deflated, it rarely goes well. Mainly because when people idolise something or someone, they tend to have a biased viewpoint, often overlooking the major flaws or setting their expectations up to unrealistic levels. “Still, it’s not a bad idea to think of.”</p><p> </p><p>Tooru only hummed in response. The match soon came to a close and Suga stretched with a deep sigh, his back a little sore from maintaining the same position on a hard surface. He caught sight of the sky outside and was surprised to find out it has already started to grow dark, the sun most likely about to set completely.</p><p> </p><p>He smiled mischievously to Tooru, “Hey look, our atmosphere has set itself. Movies?”</p><p> </p><p>The other nodded solemnly, “Movies. But wait, I can make popcorn. And maybe we can sit on my bed, it will be more comfy.”</p><p> </p><p>“Agreed. Wait, I wanna change into my pajamas. Where’s the bathroom?”</p><p> </p><p>“Ooh~, yeah, good idea. And it’s the second door on the left on the opposite side of the corridor.”</p><p> </p><p>Suga dug out a lilac tee and his favorite pyjama pants, black with little pineapples in every color imaginable and padded softly to the bathroom. He was really fucking impressed at his own ability not to get lost in the maze of doors, but he managed and in no time, he was sitting cross-leged on Tooru’s bed, rocking back and forth absentmindedly.</p><p> </p><p>Tooru pulled the coffee table closer to the bed with his foot and set down a big bowl of popcorn, two empty mugs with some cutesy animals on them and a bottle of soda he somehow managed to carry as well, squeezed against his side. Then he grabbed his own pajamas from underneath a pillow and said with a serious expression, “Promise you won’t make fun of what you’re about to see.”</p><p> </p><p>Suga snorted and pointed at his own legs, “Is it more embarrassing than pineapple pajamas?”</p><p> </p><p>Tooru’s voice didn’t lose any of its seriousness as he replied vaguely, “Depends,” and quickly disappeared out the door yet again.</p><p> </p><p><em> ‘What was that about?’ </em> Suga wondered, busying himself with pouring soda into the mugs (which were a really good decision, easier to hold and less likely to spill its contents). Soon, he heard a tell-tale click of the door getting closed and lifted his gaze up to meet Tooru’s, only to gasp in surprise, “Oh you wear glasses?!”</p><p> </p><p>He did indeed wear them - square with black half-frame, thicker and more defined at the top and he looked a<em> mazing </em>. He clearly didn’t think so himself, for he tried to cover himself up by raising the collar of his oversized t-shirt, also black, but with a white outline of a spaceship in front. “Ahh, I knew it, don’t look!”</p><p> </p><p>Suga huffed in mild annoyance, “Are you kidding me? You look great! Is your vision that bad? Do you usually wear contacts?”</p><p> </p><p>Tooru lowered his collar and asked suspiciously, “You like it?”</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah, of course I do! They suit you well,” Suga beamed sincerely, he really did look good in them. Made him seem even more observant and mature.</p><p> </p><p>“Oh,” the setter grinned then, “yeah, I do wear contacts. Glasses get in the way when we’re playing and I don’t wanna buy a sports pair, they look <em> awful. </em> And no, it’s not that bad, but enough to warrant constantly wearing them, so there’s that.”</p><p> </p><p>He nodded in understanding, “Yeah, I get it. But you really look cool, you should wear them more often. Anyway, get over here, we have some movies to watch.”</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah, okay,” Tooru got to work, searching through his movie folder to find the correct one. When he did, he stood back up to grab a pair of fluffy blankets from the built-in closet and switched the light off. </p><p> </p><p>“For the atmosphere,” he winked and soon they were all cuddled up, leaning on a few equally fluffy pillows with a bowl of popcorn smooshed between them. They perched up the laptop on their outstretched legs, tilting the screen this way or that so that they could still see everything and it was <em> the best </em>- with air-con on full blast, they weren’t overly warm wrapped up in the blankets.</p><p> </p><p>Salty and crunchy popcorn, lights out and gore scenes playing out on max volume in the dark - just perfect. Despite what Hajime had said about those movies, Suga still found himself immersed in the movie, or more like, in the absolute massacre that was Alien Invasion 1. Which apparently had two sequels and Tooru intended for them to watch <em> all of them. </em></p><p> </p><p>Not that Suga minded. The mood was hitting just right and he probably enjoyed it more than he would on a normal day, but he was having fun. And Tooru did too, eyes all shiny and cheeks flushed with excitement. He looked kind of adorable like that, so really, even if he tried, Suga wouldn’t be able to find a reason to dislike any of this.</p><p> </p><p>Alien Invasion 2: Resurrection (<em> ‘what is even that title?’ </em> ) was even <em> more </em> gory than the first one and Suga started to think that maybe it’s bad that he doesn’t think he needs an eyebleach after watching it. Maybe he had a little messed up side too. By the end of it, he was feeling a little bit sleepy, but not enough to say no to Alien Invasion 3: Apocalypse ( <em> ‘are you seriously telling me that the previous two bloody massacres weren’t enough to be called “an apocalypse”?’ </em>).</p><p> </p><p>Which was probably a mistake. He underestimated his own capabilities, or maybe it were those blasted suicides finally taking their toll, but he couldn’t fight the drowsiness any longer. Not even 15 minutes into the movie, Suga was out like a light.</p><p> </p><p>***</p><p> </p><p>Things might have gone worse than Tooru initially expected (then again, he probably should have seen the cocoa powder story coming, his mother always liked to bring it up every time she could), but all in all, it really wasn’t <em> that </em> bad. </p><p> </p><p>It turned great even - from the moment Suga-chan took out that CD with Falcons’ match it was exactly what Tooru wanted. He hadn’t watched a game with someone else in a while, mostly doing it by himself before tournaments, to analyze his opponents before he met them on court, but never has he ever had company for it. </p><p> </p><p>Iwa-chan always criticized him for that staying-up-late-at-night-to-analyze habit of his, saying it’s just him “being a creep and overthinking things again”, but he didn’t mind it much. He kind of forgot how it feels to break down the plays seen on screen with someone knowledgeable about the sport as well.</p><p> </p><p><em> ‘Damn, we really need to do this again, when there's a tournament around.’ </em> Suga-chan had an interesting perspective on each and every play - not only did he understand setter’s point of view, but was also amazing at reading the spikers’ quirks and predicting the back-row players’ movements. <em> ‘A libero thing, no doubt.’ </em></p><p> </p><p>And then he said he liked his glasses! Which meant an awful lot to Tooru - he never really liked the fact that he had to wear them, thinking it makes him look derpy and uncool. But if Suga-chan says that’s not the case, then he’s gotta be right, hasn’t he? He’ll consider wearing them more often then - maybe not for school, cause they still get in the way, but on the off-days.</p><p> </p><p>That weird fluttery feeling was back again, making him unable to focus too hard on the movie later, but that was fine, he already knew it by heart. He was more worried that Suga-chan wouldn’t like it, but he seemed just as excited as Tooru was, so that worry quickly went out the window too. Things were just simply going <em> great. </em></p><p> </p><p>Except he was starting to feel a little sleepy, which shouldn’t be the case on any other day. It was barely passed midnight and he usually never went to sleep before 2 a.m., too hyper-active in the night to settle down, but his eyelids were drooping already?!</p><p> </p><p><em> ‘Damn Makki and damn those suicides,’ </em> he huffed under his breath, concluding that this must’ve been the case, cause what else could it be? <em> ‘Is he trying to break some kind of suicide record? What the hell? I swear to god, if he gets me involved one more time I-’ </em></p><p> </p><p>His mental reverie was suddenly interrupted by a warm weight falling on his shoulder. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see that it was Suga-chan’s face, but the silver-haired teen’s eyes were closed, his chest rising and falling in a gentle rhythm.</p><p> </p><p><em> ‘Oh, he’s asleep,’ </em> he looked so cute like this, like a <em> literal </em> angel. His hair flowed onto his forehead in soft-looking tufts, some falling into his eyes that Tooru brushed off lightly on impulse. He slid lower on the pillows slowly, so as to not jostle the sleeping teen awake and after making sure the other was still out in the dreamland, he turned down the volume and brightness by a notch.</p><p> </p><p>Last thing he remembered was the fluttery feeling coming back again, but he didn’t have any energy left to ponder it, <em> at all. </em></p><p> </p><p>***</p><p> </p><p>Makoto trudged down the stairs, feeling groggy as hell and cursing under his breath as he walked into the kitchen.<em> ‘Why the hell were they watching that shit till so late, it was so goddamn loud!’ </em></p><p> </p><p>He couldn’t sleep well because of those fucked-up movies running on full volume well into the night. There was one moment around midnight when they finally turned the volume down, Makoto going out like a light with a fleeting thought of <em> ‘finally!’ </em> , but not even an hour later, he woke up to a sudden blast of volume again. He groaned exasperatedly, for the nth time in his 19-year-old existence cursing himself for being the only light-sleeper in his family aside from their dad, and squished himself between two pillows, hoping it would muffle the noise at least <em> a little bit. </em></p><p> </p><p>Needless to say, it didn’t do much, and by the time it finally became quiet again, about an hour later, he knew then and there that he would wake up in the morning feeling like <em>absolute shit. </em> He didn’t dare look into the mirror yet, not willing to take a peek at his no-doubt-present dark circles that could probably scare the living shit out of everyone, but oh well. He’ll get his revenge soon.</p><p> </p><p>“Morning,” he mumbled to his mother, flopping down onto a chair and lying down on his folded arms. </p><p> </p><p>“Morning sweetie,” she chirped enthusiastically, oblivious to his sorry-ass state. “I’m making fried rice, it should take only a few more minutes. Slept well?”</p><p> </p><p>He only snorted weakly, refusing to say something that she would know with just one quick glance. Instead, he croaked out, “Is Nagisa up yet?”</p><p> </p><p>“She went to the bathroom. Actually, could you wake up the boys for me? At this rate, they’ll be late for practice and I <em> refuse </em> to let them out without having a proper breakfast.”</p><p> </p><p>Makoto groaned in response, but dragged himself up anyway, admitting defeat. He didn’t have the strength to argue anyway, so might as well do it.</p><p> </p><p>Still, he was definitely not happy about it, <em> ‘Stupid little brothers and their stupid volleyball and even more stupid alien movies that ruin my-’ </em></p><p> </p><p>He paused in his reverie as soon as he noticed that the door was slightly ajar. <em> ‘Well that explains why it was so loud - did they not lock them properly?’ </em> He initially wanted to just bust the door open and start shouting like a madman, content to dampen his brother’s mood at least a little bit in retaliation, but now he thought otherwise. Slightly intrigued, he opened the door as quietly as he could, wincing when the hinges creaked loudly in the middle, but he didn’t hear anything from the inside, so he continued. And when he finally got them to open all the way, well… he had a hard time staying quiet.</p><p> </p><p>First thing he noticed was that it was bright, his brother probably forgot about covering the window entirely, making a room for early beams of sunlight to come through. He had to blink a few times, already feeling a headache incoming. Then he noticed the laptop thrown haphazardly at the foot of the bed, miraculously not falling over. </p><p> </p><p><em> ‘Did they accidently kick the volume up when they were sleeping?’ </em> Oh, he was so mad about this one - but he sure felt hella better when he got a glance of the other people in the room and the only thing he could think of was, <em> ‘Ha! Knew it!’ </em></p><p> </p><p>For there was his little brother, sleeping peacefully on his back with one hand twisted in the blankets. The other arm was <em> possessively </em> wrapped around Suga-kun’s back, who in turn had his left arm strewn loosely over Tooru’s chest, the other probably smooshed underneath him, cause Makoto couldn’t see a thing. He also had his head snuggled in the crook of Tooru’s neck, using his arm as a pillow and Tooru, the oblivious idiot, turned his face into the left, fucking <em> burying </em> his cheek in Suga-kun’s hair.</p><p> </p><p>It was <em> adorable. </em></p><p> </p><p>So there Makoto was, awe-struck, watching the boys’ sleeping forms look so <em> angelic, </em> lit up by the sun coming through the windows, mesmerized to the point that he didn’t hear Nagisa’s approaching footsteps until she spoke loudly, “What the hell are you smiling like a creep for so early in the mor-”</p><p> </p><p>“Shhh!” he shushed her, pointing wordlessly at the scene inside the room. It gave him an awful sense of satisfaction watching her face twist from confusion through surprise into fangirlish <em> delight, </em> her eyes sparkling as she had a hard time not to squeal. <em> ‘Oh I know that feeling sis, I so do.’ </em></p><p> </p><p>Bringing Nagisa’s attention back to himself, he pointed at her, then at the room, then at himself and made a little walking sign and finally mimed a camera shutter in a wordless message of, <em> ‘You stay and watch, I’ll go take my camera.’ </em></p><p> </p><p>She nodded solemnly, which looked particularly ridiculous with a flush still coloring her cheeks, but he didn’t waste any more time. He practically sprinted into his room and grabbed his favorite camera from his desk, mantally thanking himself for his meticulous everyday lens-cleaning routine and in no time, he was back at Tooru’s room, cautiously sniping photos after making sure the shutter sound was off.</p><p> </p><p>He took his damndest to make the pictures turn out as beautiful as he could, his artistic soul showing even though he was not going to use these photos for any other reason than teasing his little brother. Still, he couldn’t pass on such a wonderful opportunity even if internally, he was cackling at the newest addition to his Tooru Blackmail Folder.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> ‘Oh brother - you are so screwed and you don’t even know it yet!’ </em>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Makoto is my spirit animal. There, I said it. </p><p>He also may or may not be author's attempt to insert her fangirling side into her own fic, but shhh, who cares about that. He's another happy accident this fic has produced, because while the fanon agrees that Oikawa has an older sister, I found a little snippet in trivia that Furudate kind of hinted on him having a brother instead, so of course my mind went all "why not both?" route. I'd say it ended up quite spectacular :P </p><p>Once again, shoutout to my beta <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/alive_polish_fan">alive_polish_fan</a> who squeezed me into her busy schedule last minute to bring you guys this glorious 11k of pure, unadulterated fluff, author was dying while writing.</p><p>And for those of you who are new, you can find me on tumblr under <a href="https://www.tumblr.com/blog/view/master-of-nyom">MasterOfNyom</a> where you can see a sneak preview some-unknown-time before the chapter publication here on ao3 and also ask me any questions regarding this fic, Haikyuu or just come in for a friendly chat :)</p><p>Anyway, thanks for reading and see you next chapter! &lt;3</p><p>Next time: You Should Have Come to Shiratorizawa, Oikawa has a crisis and Suga helps him through it while freaking out in the middle.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. Take One for the Team</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>In which Oikawa has no self-preservation, Suga gets pissed and angry ranting leads to some interesting discoveries.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em> ‘Shit.’ </em>
</p><p> </p><p>Tooru’s breath was coming out in heavy puffs, his exhausted body struggling to get enough air to his lungs as he simultaneously moved forward to get some momentum for a jump. His fingers brushed the ball and sent it over a little too quickly to the left, his impatience showing but still, the toss was on point, easy to hit for the spiker as it should be... </p><p> </p><p>Or at least he thought so, but the blockers got a read on him too easily, intercepting the cross with a masterful precision, sending it sailing back to their side of the court.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> ‘Shit.’ </em>
</p><p> </p><p>Asa-chan-senpai was there in time, lifting the ball up merely centimeters from reaching the floor. He was too close to the net however and so, it bounced over the net in a high arc.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> ‘Shit.’ </em>
</p><p> </p><p>Shiratorizawa’s libero bumped it cleanly straight down the middle, towards the setter and even without observing the guy closely Tooru knew exactly to whom the set would be directed. The moment that person joined the team it seemed like every filthy little middle school habit carried over into their high school team.</p><p> </p><p>Mainly, only one habit. The “when in doubt, toss to Ushijima” habit. Which, coincidently or not, also happened to be Tooru’s least favorite.</p><p> </p><p>And really, it’s almost <em> poetic </em> how this particular habit was like a ghost, following Tooru and haunting him behind closed eyelids, even if all he dared do was blink. That’s how much he hated it and how much it hated him in return.</p><p> </p><p>They’ve been fighting it for five whole sets, an entire set longer than during summer InterHigh qualifiers. Seijoh was a powerhouse school, known for finishing their games quickly and without a shadow of a doubt as to who was stronger - two sets and you were out. Tooru knew for a fact that some of the players standing on the same side of the court as him today have most likely never played a full five-set match and it <em> showed. </em></p><p> </p><p>It showed how with every passing minute their movements were growing sluggish, how it took a second too long to process what was happening, how inhuman efforts they were putting into forcing their limbs to move, one more step, just one more jump.</p><p> </p><p>And never, absolutely <em> never </em> enough.</p><p> </p><p>From his position right next to the net, Tooru was forced to take in everything that happened, every second stretching into eternity as if in slow motion. How the opposing setter touched the ball. How it sailed to the right in a high arc not too close to the net. How unflinchingly Ushijima made his approach, neither surprised nor bothered by the turn of events. He never questions whether he gets the ball or not, simply <em> knowing </em> it will happen.</p><p> </p><p>Knowing that no matter the accuracy or quality of the toss, the blockers will not be able to stop him. Knowing that raw power was enough to break through them as if blowing away a house of cards. Knowing the receivers will crumble.</p><p> </p><p>And Tooru too knew it would happen, which is precisely why the only thought that was persistent enough to break through the incessant ringing in his ears as he watched everything play out in real time was,</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> ‘Shit!’ </em>
</p><p> </p><p>He couldn’t hear the dull thump the ball made as it hit the floor, or the ending whistle, or how loud Shiratorizawa’s stands cheered, erupting in euphoria. The ringing drowned out any other noise as his eyes zeroed in on the scoreboard, where in bold letters was written a testament of his failure.</p><p> </p><p>Aoba Johsai vs Shiratorizawa: <b>15-17</b></p><p> </p><p>He lost to Ushiwaka. <em> Again. </em> And that made it all the worse.</p><p> </p><p>What happened in the next thirty-or-so minutes was a blur to him, his body working on autopilot through customary handshake, bow to the spectators and then going back to the changing room to grab his stuff. Walking out there on the main court to receive their medals, the glinting silver circle mocking Tooru every time he stared at it hanging from his neck. They weren’t leaving just yet - the coaches and team captain being held back for a brief interview for some local TV station. </p><p> </p><p>A reporter from a sports magazine caught Tooru as he was heading for the bathroom to wash his face. He didn’t remember the conversation either, only some bits and pieces like “outstanding performance”, “a really close match” or how “tough of an opponent <em> Ushijima-kun </em> is”. Some more words of praise of Tooru’s skills that sounded more shallow than his breathing throughout the entire interview. He had no clue about the answers he gave, only fleetingly hoping he didn’t say anything awfully embarrassing, but not in enough depth to bring himself out of his gloriously numb headspace.</p><p> </p><p>Until the last person he had wanted to see at that time came to forcefully bring him back out of it, the disgusting piece of shit.</p><p> </p><p>“It seems what I’ve been saying is right,” Ushijima’s low rumble of a voice stated, matter-of-factly, tone flat as usual. “The team I am at is always the strongest.”</p><p> </p><p>Tooru felt his teeth grind audibly, but smoothened his no doubt furious expression into something more exasperated and threw his head back with a sigh, “Aaah~ what do you want me to do now, huh? Congratulate you?”</p><p> </p><p>The spiker blinked twice before replying, “Thank you.”</p><p> </p><p>“Tch,” Tooru tutted, “don’t look at me like that, I’m not praising you. Just cut to the chase, I don’t have all day.”</p><p> </p><p>The thing with Ushiwaka was that sometimes, Tooru couldn’t tell if he was truly that slow on the uptake or if he was playing an elaborate game that mostly consisted of him self-gloating to no end. He was inclined to believe in the former as surely, no one can be as dense of a motherfucker and make it <em> an act. </em> Then again, he was so confident of his strength and everything that came with it that it might’ve made him a little blindsided and that much more of an inconsiderate asshole in return.</p><p> </p><p>Hence why he could never understand what Tooru is doing and for what reasons. And by extension, why he occasionally comes to grace the setter with his bothersome presence, “This would not have happened should you join the strongest team.”</p><p> </p><p><em> ‘Ah, the usual now,’ </em> Tooru was more than sick of this particular topic they’ve delved into multiple times, but as fate would have it, he was the only one sharing this sentiment. So, with an even deeper sigh than the last one, that was more trying to pass off as unbothered than him actually meaning it, he snarked, “We’ve been over this Ushiwaka-chan, you know my answer. There would never be enough space for your ego in any team I would’ve chosen.”</p><p> </p><p>“Or not enough room for your petty pride,” it was unusual for the other to come back with a retort this fast. More often than not, it took a second or two for his volleyball-stunted brain cells to form a coherent response that would be exasperating or bordering on <em> insulting. </em> “There’s no secret that the team with the strongest players will always come out on top. Why you, of all people, would choose to ignore such a simple truth out of spite is appalling.”</p><p> </p><p>As much as he would’ve liked to just rage and act up on his frustration, Tooru was trying to restrain his murderous urges, not keen on exposing any kind of weakness to someone who was undoubtedly his greatest enemy. Or as close as it can get when it comes to highschool volleyball. Squashing down as much of the unbridled fury bubbling underneath the surface of his carefully sculpted mask of indifference, he bit back, “No need to go all modest now, we both know that by ‘players’, plural, the great Ushiwaka-sama means only <em> himself.” </em></p><p> </p><p>“That seems to be your own misconception,” Ushijima replied without missing a beat and Tooru felt a few veins on his forehead pop, in an entirely Iwa-chan-esque fashion. “Though I see nothing wrong in admitting one’s own strength.”</p><p> </p><p>Tooru snorted, “It’s called being an asshole.”</p><p> </p><p>“What’s wrong with being self-assured?” </p><p> </p><p>This was going nowhere. Ushiwaka was his usual Ushiwaka-self and that meant that they could be at it for ages and <em> still </em> not reach whatever-the-point the spiker was trying to make. If he even had one. </p><p> </p><p>And frankly, Tooru’s patience for that kind of thing has run out sometime during his third year of middle school so, without any more preamble, he leaned forward with the most disdainful expression and spat out, “Oh nothing really. Stay in that perfect little bubble of yours, I don’t care. Just get it through to that thick skull of yours that <em> I </em> have no intention of joining <em> you </em> there. I don’t need to <em> bow </em> to anyone to be the strongest.”</p><p> </p><p>One blink. Two. Minute tilt of a head to the right, “Then how come you’ve yet to defeat me? There’s a clear contradiction here.”</p><p> </p><p>Suddenly, Tooru’s at a loss for words. Ushijima was a man of many talents, it seemed: aside from being a nationally ranked spiker, undoubtedly the strongest in the prefecture, he was also unnervingly skilled at riling Tooru up. And, more often than the setter would like, hitting where it hurts.<br/><br/>That one question, asked with an innocence so out-of-place it felt like being hit by a bullet train, spiked up all of Tooru’s insecurities and made them flare up in neon bright “DANGER! DANGER!” Cause really, why <em> hadn’t he </em> come out victorious even a single time?<br/><br/>He was in perfect form, so much that even the press recognized it and wanted to interview him. <em> ‘Only to talk about the </em> “formidable opponent” <em> he faced.’ </em> The blockers didn’t really get a clear read on him. <em> ‘Until late in the match.’ </em> His serves were as sharp and accurate as usual. <em> ‘Except those times when they ended up either outside the court or on libero’s hands.’ </em> His tosses were on-point, perfectly suited for every spiker on their team…</p><p> </p><p>Sensing Tooru’s internal turmoil, or maybe just making use of him not responding to add those few words that never fail to haunt him in his dreams, “You should’ve come to Shiratorizawa.”</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> ‘Were they really?’ </em>
</p><p> </p><p>He thought about Mattsun, reading his tosses and squashing his and Iwa-chan’s strongest weapon like one would an irritating bug. Thought about Makki, fooling him with his emergency tosses like a magician diverting his attention from trickery in plain sight. About Suga-chan, picking up his serves one by one, like it was the easiest thing in the world…</p><p> </p><p>“Tooru?”, <em> ‘Oh god, please no, not here, not now-’ </em> “There you are! I’ve been looking for you everywhere! The coaches are back, we gotta get going or they’ll leave without us.”</p><p> </p><p>He really didn’t want to turn around, but between the magnetic enthusiasm of Suga-chan’s voice and Ushiwaka’s ugly deadpan face, there wasn’t really a choice. And there he was, hair mussed and a thin sheen of sweat on his temples from running around, with a big smile plastered on his face, hindered only by his heavier breathing. Despite the slight chill of the fall air, he still had the sleeves of his club jacket rolled up above his elbows, giving Tooru a clear view of the thin scar nested there and suddenly he felt…</p><p> </p><p>Guilty. And like the biggest hypocrite <em> ever. </em></p><p> </p><p>Because he was the asshole who pushed Suga-chan into being a libero, abandoning his position as a setter after he said <em> the team </em> needed him...when it was all about what <em> Tooru </em> needed. Or <em> wanted </em> rather, cause that’s what he did - he wanted reassurance on the court, to know someone would be there to right his wrongs. He promised Suga-chan they would be the strongest this way.</p><p> </p><p>And yet, here they are. They didn’t even get to stand on the court together, because Tooru couldn’t keep the team going, couldn’t keep giving them the chances to play. He made too many wrongs for Suga-chan to right.</p><p> </p><p>“Did something happen?” Suga-chan’s beam of a smile turned into a tiny frown. Ah, he must’ve had his thoughts written all over his face...that won’t do.</p><p> </p><p>Schooling his expression into something hopefully less depressing, he faked an equally tiny smile, “It’s nothing. Let’s go then, Suga-chan.”</p><p> </p><p>He didn’t spare Ushiwaka a farewell, nor did he turn back. He tried not looking at anything really, gaze directed pointedly ahead, grasping onto Suga-chan’s sleeve to steer them both away and to the exit. </p><p> </p><p>He tried to ignore his traitorous mind chanting <em> ‘failure, failure, failure,’ </em>over and over again but if he clenched his fists a little tighter, clutching at the material of his friend’s club jacket and the inside of his own pocket, only the two of them would know. Or perhaps, only Suga-chan, as Tooru’s mind was awfully occupied at that moment.</p><p> </p><p>***</p><p> </p><p>The first few weeks after a tournament are always kind of an awkward affair, but it seems the timing alone adds up that much <em> more </em> awkwardness to it. The entire club is equally as frustrated as lost and it makes an almost funny picture to any outsider - but not so much to the ones being part of it. Naturally, the frustration part comes from losing the tournament and “being lost” is a result of not having any clue as to what to do <em> next. </em></p><p> </p><p>The fact that the tournament they have just lost was Spring Qualifiers only adds up to that confusion. Cause not having a clear idea on where to go from there is doubled up by the looming shadow of their senpai’s graduating. A shadow in which they comfortably hid up until now and were abruptly being forced out of by their loss. It means that it’s now time to prepare for the tournaments coming up next year but that’s uh...a little hard to imagine.</p><p> </p><p>In the first place, they always set their goals all the way up to nationals-high, so losing in the finals is a failure on more than one front. And now, having to start over, with no idea how the team will look like in a few months: new first-years, new lineups, new captains - it all seems surreal. And so, the moment you realize it’s exactly what’s happening, well… Being a little bit at a loss is t<em> he least </em> that could happen, really.</p><p> </p><p>For that reason, everyone was acting a little out of depth, trailing around aimlessly like little ducklets that have lost sight of their mother. It’s difficult to fall back into their routine and even more so to figure out how to adjust to the changes that are about to happen even<em> before </em> they do. Practice became a little subdued and aside from a few second years from the starting lineup, nobody stayed late for anything extra.</p><p> </p><p>Except for Tooru.</p><p> </p><p>Ever since the post-tournament meal (which, unsurprisingly, was as depressing an affair as it was last time), Tooru was probably doing an awful job at remaining calm and composed, but he wasn’t in the mood to give a damn either. His mind was going haywire in all sorts of different directions, bustling with white noise that he tried to cover by thinking strictly about volleyball.</p><p> </p><p>Should he do setting practice first or maybe focus on serves for the time being? He had many things to work on and not enough time during the day to cover all of them equally and that just wouldn’t do! The time was ticking, only a few months left until summer InterHigh and hell if Tooru was going to waste them on moping around. </p><p> </p><p>And so, every day after practice, he would stay behind to work on his serves or tosses - whichever he felt like and depending on if he had company or not. Cause naturally, setting practice is best done with someone to set to instead of knocking off lined up empty water bottles. Same with his serves really. While this kind of training was paying off as well, definitely improving his accuracy and slowly but surely adding up more force to it as well...it felt a little anticlimactic.</p><p> </p><p>He had tried to rope his friends into helping out, multiple times even, but it seemed like they all ganged up on him, collectively refusing his pleadings. Hell, Iwa-chan that traitor went even so far as to physically drag him home a few times after school, not letting him stay for even just a little bit on days they didn’t have practice. Makki and Mattsun he could understand, they were lazy bastards after all. Even if it wouldn’t hurt for them to show the barest of efforts now that a few spots have opened up on the first string. </p><p> </p><p>The only person who could've been excused was Suga-chan. After all, he was already in the starting lineup, now permanently taking the spot of Asa-chan-senpai. Still, Tooru was a little disappointed that the silver-haired teen wasn’t able to join him (something about fall being a busy season in his mother’s shop), but it’s not like he could do anything about it.</p><p> </p><p>So he practiced alone, staying longer and longer each day, cause no matter what he did, it didn’t satisfy him in the <em> slightest. </em></p><p> </p><p>Like now - he was methodically going through the second cart of volleyballs working on his serves. He knew he had to do <em> something </em> about the accuracy, master it enough so that he wouldn’t have to sacrifice even a tiny bit of power in his swing. Right now it was either aim well or go out of bounds kinda thing.</p><p> </p><p>It wouldn’t do.</p><p> </p><p>There’s no way he can even <em> think </em> of beating Ushiwaka if he doesn’t get his serves right. Every single one that goes outside of the court is a point lost, one that would potentially cost him the victory. He can’t allow himself those kinds of mistakes, can’t keep coming short to the only guy who would hold it over his head forever, gloating as he busts through yet another championship.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> “You should’ve come to Shiratorizawa.” </em>
</p><p> </p><p>Tooru would not <em> bow </em>.</p><p> </p><p>There was never a time when going to Shiratorizawa was ever an option. Ushijima was always the only one he wanted to beat and being his setter on the same team would feel like being a <em> slave </em>. In Ushiwaka’s world of volleyball, the only thing he would’ve had to do was send him toss after toss, mindlessly, like a puppet on strings the spiker held in that meaty hand capable of breaking through every wall of blockers.</p><p> </p><p>It’s not how Tooru wanted to be the strongest. He’ll reach the top on his own, because he doesn’t need Ushijima for it.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> “Then how come you’ve yet to defeat me?” </em>
</p><p> </p><p>He <em> doesn’t. </em></p><p> </p><p>Slamming ball after ball into the ground, his frustration of himself was only spiking drastically up. Because what else was he supposed to do? <em> *smack* </em> How far will finally be enough? <em> *smack* </em> What kind of effort would bring him higher than what natural talent can achieve? <em> *smack smack* </em> Is it even possible for him to reach it in the first place?</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> *SMACK SMACK SMACK* </em>
</p><p> </p><p>Heaving a breath that sounded suspiciously like he was choking up on tears, some traitorous part of Tooru’s brain was chucking more self-deprecating thoughts a mile a minute, each of them going round the single strand of <em> ‘you will never reach it’ </em>. His body was screaming at him to stop, muscles feeling like lead from how hard he’s been putting them to work, but he couldn’t stop. The moment he did, the looming cloud of white noise was becoming too imposing for him to handle, crushing him to the ground with its weight.</p><p> </p><p>And he wouldn’t cave. Not now, not like this, there’s no room to give up, no time to rest. Every second he wastes listening to this voice in his head that was nothing short of unnecessary common sense, his goal was running ahead of him. Every one step he takes is two steps for those who have been made for this, so he had to keep up.</p><p> </p><p>Throw the ball. Three to five steps. Jump. Hit. Rinse, repeat. Drag yourself through the familiar motions, wash the thoughts away, drown them in the feeling. Push as far as it’ll go and even further beyond.</p><p> </p><p><em> ‘You will never bow,’ </em> he smashed the ball with all his might, watching in disbelief how it sailed all the way to the far-end wall, hitting it somewhere in the lower half. <em> ‘Ever!’ </em></p><p> </p><p>“Fuck!” he stomped his right foot down furiously and immediately recoiled from the sudden spark of pain the action brought upon him.<em> ‘What is it now?!’ </em></p><p> </p><p>The last ten-or-so serves went all out of bounds, each one further away than the last one and Tooru was having <em> none </em> of it. <em> ‘What kind of pathetic shit is that supposed to be, huh?! What is this?!’ </em></p><p> </p><p>He reached blindly behind himself, feeling in the cart for another ball but suddenly, a hand seized his wrist and twisted it away. He whipped his head around, a snarky <em> ‘What?!’ </em> forming on his tongue ready to unleash but as soon as his mind registered the familiar hazel eyes hid behind silvery locks, he did a double-take, “...Suga-chan?”</p><p> </p><p>The other teen’s expression was unreadable, not looking at the setter at all, but rather somewhere below their tightly grasped hands.<em> ‘Didn’t he already go home? What is he doing here?’ </em> “It’s empty.”</p><p> </p><p>“Huh?” Tooru was probably wearing the dumbest expression anyone could make, not really following what his friend was trying to say.</p><p> </p><p>Finally, Suga-chan’s eyes met his and he almost gasped seeing the look of them. <em> ‘Why does Suga-chan seem so sad?’ </em> “The cart. It’s empty.”</p><p> </p><p>“Oh,” it was true - Tooru was so wrapped-up in his thoughts that he didn’t notice that he had gone through an entire cart again. Looking around, the balls were scattered everywhere on the other side of the net and some of them have even softly rolled back in their direction. In some places the floor was barely visible underneath the multicolor blanket of them, there were so many - how he had not tripped on any of them was clearly a miracle.</p><p> </p><p>“Come on, let’s clean this up,” Suga-chan said, tugging at his wrist lightly to prompt him to move along. </p><p> </p><p>Being quite literally dragged out of his frenzy, Tooru found himself at a loss, just trailing one of two steps behind Suga-chan’s back like an obedient sheep. Or maybe trudging would be a better word, since the abrupt change of pace felt like a bucket of ice-cold water and the setter’s muscles took this short window of opportunity to stop <em> goddamn </em> moving. He felt stiff like a brick right now, only if bricks could be aching all over as well.</p><p> </p><p>His right knee in particular was hurting like a bitch, so much that Tooru had to bite back the urge not to hiss every time he put some weight on it with each step. <em> ‘This is worse than I thought,’ </em> no sooner had it crossed his mind than Suga-chan pointed out, “You’re limping,” casually, as if commenting on the weather, leaning to pick up the scattered volleyballs and throw them back into the cart.</p><p> </p><p>Tooru gulped audibly, suddenly at a loss for words. There was something so awfully <em> detached </em> in Suga-chan’s voice that was throwing the setter off. Figuring that changing the topic would be the safest course of action, he coughed awkwardly and asked in a voice smaller than he would like to, “Why did you come here at such an hour?”</p><p> </p><p>Dropping the ball he was holding into the cart, the silver-haired teen turned around and leveled him with a glare so exasperated Tooru could practically hear the unspoken<em> “Really?” </em> being thrown at him. Heaving a deep sigh, he replied in a completely no-nonsense tone, “I came to take you home of course, idiot. You’ve done enough for the day - hell, you’ve done more than enough for the next <em> week </em> if you ask me… Hey, drop it right now!”</p><p> </p><p>Tooru’s hand flinched away on reflex, like he was a child busted for being found with a hand buried deep inside the cookie jar. He was trying to steer the now full cart back to the other side of the court, back where he kept it at the start. “Huh? Why? We can practice a little more before we go home. I’ve been working on my serves a lot and I kinda wanted to ask you to pick a few of them up for me, you know, give me some of the libero insight on how-”</p><p> </p><p>“Tooru it’s 10 p.m.,” was all Suga-chan offered in reply, now with a matching frown of concern to his sad-looking eyes, “The practice ended more than four hours ago.”</p><p> </p><p>“...Oh.”</p><p> </p><p>Has he really been at it for that long? He couldn’t have, it felt like nothing at all! But sure enough, it was dark outside, way darker than when the second years filed out maybe an hour-or-so after practice and <em> oh </em> . <em> ‘It must’ve been a long time ago then.’ </em></p><p> </p><p>Suga-chan took a few steps forward, pausing just a few paces in front of the setter, “You’ve done enough. Let’s go home now.”</p><p> </p><p>It then occurred to Tooru, what exactly felt a little out of place to him, why Suga-chan seemed so sad. It was the way he said it. Not “that’s enough for today” but <em> “you’ve done enough”. </em> As if it was a definite thing.</p><p> </p><p>In his frantic, adrenaline-ridden mind, it sounded awfully like what his thoughts had been screaming at him: <em> ‘You will never reach it. That’s enough. Give up already.’ </em></p><p> </p><p>“No,” his head was shaking even before he gave voice to his realization. He turned abruptly and grabbed another ball from the cart, “I still can do some more. I have to-”</p><p> </p><p>“Why?” Suga-chan was not looking at him again, his head hung so low Tooru couldn’t see his expression hidden behind a curtain of silvery locks, “Why do you think you have to?”</p><p> </p><p><em> ‘What does he mean “why”? Isn’t it obvious?’ </em> Tooru really couldn’t get a read on the other teen today, which was so weird it unsettled him, in a way. Outloud though, he said simply, “Well I have to become stronger.”</p><p> </p><p>“That can be said about anyone,” Suga-chan pointed coldly and added, “Let me ask again. Why do you think <em> you </em> have to?”</p><p> </p><p>“I, uh-”<em> ‘very eloquent Tooru, keep this up and we’ll be standing here all night,’ </em> “I have to beat Ushiwaka. We won’t go to nationals if I don’t. But I can’t do it the way I am right now so I need to be better, stronger. And I need to do it <em> now.” </em></p><p> </p><p>“Now you say,” something in the air shifted just then and Tooru couldn’t quite put his finger on it. In a blink of an eye, Suga-chan was at the cart, grabbing the first ball he could reach and shoving it in the setter’s chest. “Go ahead then. Do one more serve.”</p><p> </p><p>Tooru regretted wishing to meet his friend’s eyes again. He was expecting to see some exasperation, irritation too, maybe or that weird sad look he didn’t know where it came from but not...whatever the hell it was. Suga-chan’s gaze was so <em> cold </em> , it felt as if he was staring down at his soul, conveying wordlessly to him, <em> ‘Do it. Or are you about to refuse?’ </em></p><p> </p><p>Gulping nervously, he took a few steps backwards until his feet were far enough from the line. He spun the ball in his palms like he always does but somehow, it didn’t feel right at all. It was like he was being stared down, which was so bizarre - after all, during official matches he was always being watched, whether by the spectators or his opponents. </p><p> </p><p>So why suddenly, just one person’s stare, his friend’s no less, felt like it weighed a thousand tons?</p><p> </p><p>“What’s wrong?” sensing his internal struggle, Suga-chan prompted, “You said it has to be now. So do it.”</p><p> </p><p>He didn’t like this Suga-chan at all. Challenging, almost mocking him, using his words against him to make a point that he knew he already won. It was all so messed up, but Tooru wasn’t one to back out now. Not that he even could, with the scene being set up like that.</p><p> </p><p>So he threw the ball up and tried not to think about the heaviness in the air at all.</p><p> </p><p>And it all went to <em> hell. </em></p><p> </p><p>The first step was an unpleasant surprise. Pain sparked up in his right knee like a tiny firework, not strong enough to make him trip but he still faltered in his steps a little, making the next one slightly less pronounced than usual. He tried to make up for that in speed, reasoning that the faster he lifts the pressure off of that leg, the easier it would be. So he rushed into a leap that turned his body so tense, he knew the serve was going to be bad the moment the ball hit his outstretched palm. And sure enough, the height of the jump and his swing were all wrong; the ball hit the net dead-on.</p><p> </p><p>The landing made him <em> shout. </em></p><p> </p><p>Pain flashed through his brain in white-hot agony, radiating from the knee that suddenly couldn’t support him anymore. He tumbled to the ground in a boneless heap and curled in on himself, grateful that this much movement wasn’t enough to inspire any more of this suffering.</p><p> </p><p>Suga-chan was there in an instant, worry cracking though that cold mask he put on earlier, “That’s why I said it’s enough. You can lie to yourself but your body will always be honest. It’s <em> enough </em> Tooru, let’s go home.”</p><p> </p><p>“It will never be enough!” maybe it was the pain addling his brain, but Tooru couldn’t hold it in any longer. Confession after confession poured out of him in an endless tide - it would’ve swept him off his feat if he wasn’t already sprawled on the floor in a poor imitation of a pretzel. “No matter what I do it will never be enough!”</p><p> </p><p>The other teen flinched in surprise, “Tooru-?”</p><p> </p><p>But Tooru wasn’t in the slightest bit done, “I put my everything to try and get more, I train and I train and I <em> train </em> , to reach there faster, be <em> better </em> , stronger and it’s never enough! Just as I start thinking that I’ve finally gotten stronger I lose again. Over and over and over again. I scream and I fight and it’s never enough! <em> Never!” </em></p><p> </p><p>He wiped his tearing eyes furiously, sucking in a desperate breath in an attempt to re-center himself, but it didn’t work. Instead, he mumbled weakly, “If I don’t change something right now, I’ll never beat Ushiwaka. All this time when I make one step closer to the goal, he makes two. I have to catch up or I’ll never reach it. You understand it, don’t you?”</p><p> </p><p>If anyone would get how he feels, Tooru was sure that it would be Suga-chan. Sweet, hard-working Suga-chan, who literally did everything in his power to remain standing on court, to earn his place there through blood, sweat and tears.<em> ‘If it’s Suga-chan, I’m sure he understands-’ </em></p><p> </p><p>“Are you completely out of your mind?!” there were hands grabbing at Tooru’s collar, pulling him into a sitting position to be mostly eye-level with Suga-chan’s unwavering gaze and <em> oh. </em> Now he understood what had felt off to him.</p><p> </p><p>It’s always a sucker-punch-like feeling whenever Suga-chan gets mad. He’s such an upbeat person that the contrast between <em> that </em> and his boiling fury causes a whiplash, even though Tooru had first-hand experience with how intense the silver-haired libero can get when angry. But there was only one time when he was so pissed it felt like the temperature in the room dropped a whole ten degrees.</p><p> </p><p>It was when Tooru indirectly insulted <em> Makki </em>, not Suga-chan himself.</p><p> </p><p><em> ‘Wait a second, does that mean he’s not actually angry at me but </em> for <em> me?’ </em> it dawned on Tooru. It made sense, kinda, but that still didn’t change how <em> disturbing </em> it was to see Suga-chan like this. He liked the ever-smiling, uplifting Suga-chan way better. Warily, he tried to plead, “W-wait, calm down Suga-chan…”</p><p> </p><p>“Shut up!” only to be leveled with a stern glare and an exasperated sigh, which quickly turned into a full-blow rant session, “Some nerve you have! ‘Me’ this, ‘me’ that, only me me and <em> me! </em> Since when does everything depend only on <em> you, </em> huh?!”</p><p> </p><p>Tooru’s eyes widened in confusion - having been pulled by his collar, he was so close to Suga-chan’s face he could feel his voice vibrating off of his skin, making him slightly shiver, “What do you mean?”</p><p> </p><p>“And an idiot to boot!” Suga-chan released his shirt from tightly clenched fists in favor of throwing his arms up dramatically, “All you keep saying is <em> ‘I need to do it’ </em> or <em> ‘I have to win’ </em>, as if that’s something you do on your own! Are you seriously that arrogant to think that anything that happens on the court is all thanks to you?! Do you not trust the team so much you want to shoulder the responsibility of the game on your own?! That’s not even possible in the first place!”</p><p> </p><p>“No seriously, wait a second, Suga-chan!” Tooru flailed his arms frantically, not knowing what was going on anymore and how to stop his friend from shouting out whatever the hell he was trying to say.</p><p> </p><p>But Suga-chan wasn’t listening to him at all, “You think you’re some kind of god on the court or whatever?! That’s it, isn’t it?! Well guess what - you’re fucking<em> not. </em> You’re always one of the six, nothing more and nothing less, so get that pretty head out of your fucking ass and stop thinking you’re the king of the world <em> goddamnit!” </em></p><p> </p><p>The silver-haired teen heaved a few breaths just then, Tooru’s mind using that short window of time to catch up to what was being thrown at him. And as he processed it in his pain-addled brain only one thought was taking precedence:</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>  ‘Eh?’ </em>
</p><p> </p><p>***</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> ‘Eeeh?! What are you even saying?! “Pretty”? What? When did that even happen? Suga you fucking idiot!’ </em>
</p><p> </p><p>Suga was probably having the biggest freakout of his entire life. What was his brain even doing, choosing now of all times to go into feelings mode, huh?! He’s cursed, he’s surely cursed - there’s no other way to explain the surge of heat blooming on his cheeks caused by his own <em> fucking </em> words! He needs a better brain to mouth filter, it always fails him when he’s getting swept by intense emotions.</p><p> </p><p>Tooru was staring at him, eyes wide and shining from how he had teared up a little earlier. <em> ‘Good to know I’m not the only one prone to angry-crying,’ </em> except the setter’s face was also a human equivalent of a question mark and Suga was waiting for the other shoe to drop, “Y-you think I’m pretty?”</p><p> </p><p>“That’s not the problem right now!” oh god, there it was - if his blush wasn’t visible earlier, it definitely was <em> now, </em> for the libero felt like his face was doused in molten lava.</p><p> </p><p><em> ‘Calm down, just calm down, there’s nothing wrong about admitting that. Objectively speaking, Tooru is very pretty, I mean, he doesn’t have a flock of girls following him around for no reason,’ </em> Suga tried to even out his breathing, deep inhale, slow exhale, again and again. <em> ‘Right, this is perfectly normal. No one can look at those soft curls of his, or chocolate eyes or that tiny frown he makes when he’s thinking and not- </em>fuck.’</p><p> </p><p>He had it bad, hadn’t he?</p><p> </p><p>Worst of all, he had no idea when exactly he had stopped thinking of Tooru in strictly friendly categories and started filing away thoughts about him into the “Crush Material” folder. Somewhere between the hand-holding and one enthusiastic “Suga-chan!” chirped every time Tooru saw him too many.</p><p> </p><p>“Eh? Wait, what happened? Suga-chan?” came Tooru’s confused exclamation and Suga shook his head furiously, slapping both hands on his cheeks,<em> ‘Get a grip Suga, it’s not the time for gay panic, you’ll scream into your pillow later at home.’ </em></p><p> </p><p>He had a dumb setter to give a thorough chewing out to after all.</p><p> </p><p>Pointing an accusatory finger back at the still collapsed teen, he spat out, “You’re being an irresponsible and self-centered idiot is what’s happening! Why exactly do you think that whether the team wins or loses depends all on you?! In what world working so hard to the point of breaking is becoming stronger?! You’ll hurt yourself even more than you already have and there won’t be a reset button you could hit to overwrite that!”</p><p> </p><p>“I know that kind of thing already!” Tooru bit back, making Suga recoil at how venomous the words sounded on his tongue, “I’m not some kind of genius, god-blessed wonderchild or whatever. I’ve seen that gap multiple times. But that’s exactly why I can’t just sit still and do <em> nothing </em> - if I don’t give it everything I’ve got and then some, I won’t ever be the strongest!”</p><p> </p><p>“You don’t know <em> shit </em> Tooru!” he was getting tired of this. How can Tooru be such an amazing player and yet be so <em> stupid? </em> It’s kind of impressive, if not ridiculously unbelievable, “Fine, let’s have it your way for a second. Let’s say you’ll become the greatest fucking setter in Japan and let’s say we’re playing a game. You’ll give a spiker the greatest fucking toss anyone has ever seen - then what?”</p><p> </p><p>Tooru opened and closed his mouth like a fish out of water, his whole aura radiating confusion, “What do you mean<em> ‘then what’ </em>? He’ll score a point, obviously.”</p><p> </p><p>“You don’t know that,” Suga countered and watched how the other’s expression shifted into disbelief, so he added, “The spiker might hit the ball too weak or too strong, the blockers might get a read on him or not, receivers might pick the ball up or not, it can go in or out.”</p><p> </p><p>“But the setter-”</p><p> </p><p>“-is supposed to trick the blockers to clear the way for the spiker, sure,” having the mindset of a setter, it was easy for Suga to read Tooru’s thoughts way before he finished them, “But other than the toss itself, there’s nothing in a spike that relies on the setter alone. It can be the crappiest or the most amazing toss in the world, it doesn’t matter - if the spiker can’t make use of it, the team won’t get a point.”</p><p> </p><p>He kind of understood the insecurity - hell, this way of thinking wasn’t far from how <em> he </em> had been acting when he realized that if he wanted to be the team setter, he’d have to go against the great <em> Oikawa Tooru.  </em></p><p> </p><p>Except, this volleyball prodigy wasn’t one at all. He wasn’t some unreachable god that common folk can only bow to. He was a normal player, prone to feeling weak and aiming for the top, pouring blood, sweat and tears to one day make that dream come true. And an idiot, who wouldn’t stop chasing it until it breaks him in the process.</p><p> </p><p>Suga didn’t want to see that happen.</p><p> </p><p>Kneeling down beside his friend, the silver-haired teen offered a small, reassuring smile, “That’s why I said you’ve done enough. There’s no point in straining yourself to the point of breaking - that won’t help you become stronger nor the team achieve victory. If only one player is strong, that does not make the team as well.”</p><p> </p><p>“Pfft,” Tooru scoffed, “tell that to Ushiwaka. That self-centered prick is all about playing only with the strongest players.”</p><p> </p><p>“Well okay, but since when do you agree with what he says?” Suga teased and before his friend’s offended gasp could turn into a retort, added, “Shiratorizawa sure is good at gathering strong players, but so is Seijoh. They differ in terms of play style though and how they work on the court.”</p><p> </p><p>“What do you mean <em> ‘how’ </em> they work on the court?” The setter tilted his head to the side in interest and Suga was glad that he was actually listening instead of just spouting off nonsense.</p><p> </p><p>Taking a deep breath, he replied calmly, “It’s because they support each other more than we do - yes, even if that support means mostly keeping one player out of the equation until they score.”</p><p> </p><p>Shiratorizawa might be a heavy attack-oriented team, but that doesn’t mean they don’t have a solid foundation - they most certainly do and use it to their advantage. It’s precisely because of that reason they can afford shielding one player of the six. The entire team is helping Ushiwaka so that the only thing he has to focus on is scoring. Every player does their part to clear the way for the ace and secure an easy victory.</p><p> </p><p>“So what you’re saying is that our team does not support each other?” Tooru asked with a frown, clearly having a hard time wrapping his head around it.</p><p> </p><p>“I don’t know, do we?” Suga smirked a little deviously, basking in the unsure look in the setter’s eyes. <em> ‘I got you where I wanted you to be.’ </em> “If we did, then you wouldn’t feel so compelled to carry the game on your own.”</p><p> </p><p>He could see that Tooru was at a loss for words, but he was still not fully convinced, “That’s not why I-”</p><p> </p><p>“I know,” but Suga was having none of it. If those past few months have given him anything, then it was a pretty good insight on Tooru’s (slightly) messy thought process. They were kind of alike in that matter, “But you tend to forget the simplest truth when depressed, you know? Volleyball is a team sport - that means, there’s no point if only one player becomes impossibly stronger. If the whole six doesn’t improve as well, the team will never be the best. It’s as simple as that.”</p><p> </p><p>Suga always loved the team aspect of volleyball, so much that it hurt him <em> the most </em> when it was taken away from him. But Tooru wasn’t exactly like him - he was a little more assured in his own value to the team, if not so much at the very moment. He was more afraid of dragging the team down with him, but even then it was more about his own lack of self-confidence than anything else.</p><p> </p><p>It was kind of interesting really, how such a charismatic and seemingly well-aware of his own capabilities person can in reality feel so small and insecure he would literally drive himself to such extremes it breaks him. But then again, Suga wasn’t exactly one to judge, seeing as he also has a nasty habit of thinking little of himself when feeling down and depressed.</p><p> </p><p>One thing he could do though, is return a favor. Because Tooru had saved him from his own demons once before and the least he could do for his friend, is to help him battle some of <em> his. </em></p><p> </p><p>“You told me before to think more about myself, about what I want to do and not what I feel I should do,” Suga knew he had Tooru’s undivided attention just then, they both went back to that very similar moment to this one, only a few months prior. “That it’s not always about what’s best for the team. Well then now I’m throwing it back at you. Except-”</p><p> </p><p>He dropped a hand slowly on Tooru’s right knee, wincing at the hiss it forced out of the other teen, “-you don’t seem to be following your own advice, so I’ll give you mine. If you get yourself even more hurt than this, you won’t be of use to the team. Hell, you might even destroy your entire future career! Go home and get a doctor to check up on you - if you can’t do it for yourself, then take one for the team and suck it up. Everyone has to give in sometimes, but that doesn’t mean you’d be giving <em> up.” </em></p><p> </p><p>An unnerving kind of silence fell after Suga’s last words. Up until now, he was the one holding the reign over the entire conversation, but it was all up to Tooru now. Suga can’t make any decisions for him - hell, he wouldn’t even try - but if the setter doesn’t take his advice to heart, then he was fully prepared to drag him home <em> by force. </em></p><p> </p><p>It was all he honestly came here for. He had of course noticed Tooru acting strange, not unlike after summer InterHigh, but this time it was on a significantly larger scale. He wanted to approach the chocolate-haired teen sooner, but Hajime told him otherwise - said that <em> “the idiot has to get burned before he’d even listen to common sense, if he still knows what that is.” </em> Suga didn’t question it, but his worries had not been eased by that admission in the slightest. So when a single text from Hajime reading:</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>9:37 p.m.</b>
</p><p><b>Hajime: he knows my tricks by the book, so maybe you’ll have more luck</b> <b><br/></b><br/>arrived, he honestly felt... <em> relieved </em>. It was up to Tooru to make that relief a permanent thing though.</p><p> </p><p>And speaking of said idiot setter, he heaved a resigned sigh, “Suga-chan really is amazing huh. You never fail to surprise me, you know.”</p><p> </p><p>Suga only chuckled, standing back up and extending a hand to help the other teen to his feet as well, “The feeling’s mutual.”</p><p> </p><p>***</p><p> </p><p>They have quickly realized that Tooru’s knee is a little worse for wear than they initially expected. Suga-chan didn’t get phased in the slightest, only mumbling under his nose, “I can still do more, my ass,” throwing Tooru’s arm over his shoulder and helping him up this way. He also somehow managed to swing Tooru’s bag on his other arm without much problem, even if he did complain that he was “a heavy human beanpole.”</p><p> </p><p>Now that Tooru had calmed down a little, pain was really catching up to him - he surely hoped the injury wasn’t a serious one, but even then, the thought of being unable to attend practice made him feel a teeny tiny bit depressed. No way he would tell that to Suga-chan though, after what he’s done for him, even though he-</p><p> </p><p>“Wait a second,” Tooru exclaimed in sudden realization, but Suga-chan took the instruction quite literally and stopped walking, thinking that Tooru’s injury was making it too hard for him and he needed a break. Before the silver-haired teen had time to speak out though, Tooru asked, “How did you even get here? I thought you said you’re helping out in the shop today.”</p><p> </p><p>Suga-chan huffed an amused breath and slowly picked up their pathetically slow and stumbling pace, “I was, but Hajime texted me to ask if I can beat some sense into you in his stead and my mom happened to be going for a drink with a few friends of hers, so she took me along and dropped me here.”</p><p> </p><p>“Huh, how convenient,” Tooru mused and immediately after hissed, for a second forgetting not to lean too heavily on his aching leg. That was why it took him so long to process the whole sentence thoroughly, "Iwa-chan did what?!" </p><p> </p><p>Suga-chan laughed brightly, for a second making Tooru forget the pain, "Just kidding, he only asked me to come fetch you. Though the beating part is probably something he would do."</p><p> </p><p>"Oh he for sure would," Tooru muttered glumly, "He punched me in middle school for staying after practice you know."</p><p> </p><p>"And you still didn't know better," the libero shook his head, making his soft locks tousle up, some falling into his eyes which he blew away in a little huff. <em> 'Yep, I really like this Suga-chan way better.' </em></p><p> </p><p>Now that he thinks about it, that time in middle school was very similar to this one. Back then, he was also frustrated after a loss to Ushijima and was trying to bury this feeling under week's worth of workout crammed into a few hours a day. Seems like he really hadn't changed much. </p><p> </p><p>
  <em> 'Even so, getting punched for that was way too much! Iwa-chan is so cruel to me!'  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>Then he remembered what exactly his friend had said right after hitting him and was struck by a sudden realization, "So that's what he meant!"</p><p> </p><p>Suga-chan tilted his head as much as their position allowed, to look at him a little closer, "Who meant what?" </p><p> </p><p><em> 'He's so cute like this,' </em> he mused to himself, unabashedly admiring the little spots of light dancing in the silver-haired teen's eyes. He explained, "When Iwa-chan literally beat some sense into me, he said something similar to what you've said earlier. 'The team with stronger six wins.' I always thought he was stupid for stating the obvious, but he didn't just mean having six strong players in the team."</p><p> </p><p>"Getting six talented players in a team is easy, but teaching them how to work together is harder," Suga-chan nodded along, catching onto his train of thought. "Both Shiratorizawa and Seijoh do that, as well as many more teams all over Japan, all over the world. But that's just adding up power - if you learn how to draw the best out of each other, you will be multiplying it-" </p><p> </p><p>"And that is how you reach the top," Tooru finished, feeling like someone has finally lit up a tiny light bulb in his head, making everything seem brighter and clearer than before. </p><p> </p><p>"It takes time though, to form a bond like this," Suga-chan added in a meek tone and Tooru had an unpleasant realization that <em> ‘He never had a team like that.’ </em></p><p> </p><p>From what he understood, Suga-chan disliked his middle school team and vice versa, nobody has said for what reason though. Tooru had a sneaking suspicion that Makki knew, perhaps Mattsun as well, but up until now, he didn’t feel like he was in a position to ask. Whatever it was though, it made his silver-haired friend lose trust in his own abilities and value to the team.</p><p> </p><p>They made him feel small instead of supporting him.</p><p> </p><p>“...Suga-chan?” he asked before he could stop himself, but the libero let out a low hum, indicating that he had heard him, so Tooru couldn’t back out now.<em> ‘And anyway, I feel like if I ask now, he will surely tell me.’ </em> “Why did your middle school team hate you?”</p><p> </p><p>The <em> ‘how could they even do that?’ </em> he managed to bite back, so as to not embarrass himself, but it reflected his own feelings perfectly. Suga-chan was the brightest, most caring person he had ever met and it was hard for him to imagine a scenario in which a person like that could be hated. It happened though, and made his friend so miserable he couldn’t even enjoy volleyball anymore.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> ‘Or they made it impossible for him.’ </em>
</p><p> </p><p>Suga-chan didn’t answer at first and his gaze was so far away Tooru was worried that he had crossed the line after all. But right as his panic began to set in, Suga-chan asked, “Remember how Makki told us about his dad?”</p><p> </p><p>Tooru scrunched his eyebrows in confusion, “Yeah, I do but what does that have to-” he stopped mid-sentence, coming to the realization as soon as the words were slipping off his tongue. <em> ‘Oh no. Oh </em> hell <em> no, don’t tell me-’ </em></p><p> </p><p>But Suga-chan was smiling bitterly, so there was no doubt in Tooru’s mind even before the libero spoke, “Yeah, there’s a lot of people like that, unfortunately.”</p><p> </p><p>What followed was a description a little too detailed for Tooru’s weak stomach, adding up to the slight nausea he already had from exerting his injured knee now that he actually had a mind to slow down and <em> feel </em> the damn thing. Suga-chan’s story made his insides roil in unsettlement, not sure if he was more disgusted by his supposed “teammates” or immeasurably <em> sorry </em> that his friend had to go through this.</p><p> </p><p>It didn’t sit right with him that something stupidly biased as homophobia was supposedly enough of a reason to shun Suga-chan and push him away. To kill all the joy volleyball could give him, making him feel inadequate, forcing him to chase validation, losing confidence along the way when all he really wanted was to regain his place in the team he loved most.</p><p> </p><p>A team he wanted to reach the top with. The one he never <em> had. </em></p><p> </p><p>Then and there, Tooru decided he would do everything in his power to give Suga-chan the team he deserved. One that would support him no matter what, one in which even a loss wouldn’t feel as intimidating because they would still have each other to help ease the pain. </p><p> </p><p>One that one day will become the best.</p><p> </p><p>Letting go of his entire frustration, he heaved a huge sigh, “Aaah~ why did we have to lose now? I wanted to finally play with Suga-chan in a real game.”</p><p> </p><p>He’d intended to make the silver-haired teen laugh and was pleased to see that he’d succeeded, “So that’s why you were rushing huh? Gee, you’re so simple-minded Tooru, what the hell-” <em> ‘Good. This is how it’s supposed to be. Don’t think about those stupid motherfuckers and just laugh it all away.’ </em></p><p> </p><p>After all, Suga-chan’s laugh was something Tooru would never get tired of hearing. Ever.</p><p> </p><p>“It doesn’t have to be now though,” the libero added as an after though, so quiet that Tooru wasn’t sure he had even heard him correctly, making sure with a puzzled little, “Huh?”</p><p> </p><p>Suga-chan’s gaze was directed pointedly ahead and a little distant, as if he was contemplating something awfully important, “Next year’s InterHigh, Spring Tournament… Then the year after that - we have so many chances ahead of us. This is only our first year, it’s too early to start worrying about missed chances.”</p><p> </p><p>The libero made sure he was holding Tooru’s gaze before continuing in a more serious tone, “We have a lot of chances left...so don’t go rushing ahead all on your own.”</p><p> </p><p><em> ‘Or I won’t be able to catch up,’ </em>went unsaid but Tooru could hear it clearly in the heavy silence that settled between them. It was Suga-chan’s insecurities at play yet again - this nasty tendency to underestimate his own capabilities.</p><p> </p><p>Maybe, the silver-haired teen genuinely wasn’t aware of just how <em> strong </em> he was, how great of a player he could become. But Tooru saw him on the court, saw how tracking down the ball’s movements with those hazel eyes was so much of a second nature to the libero. </p><p> </p><p>He had no idea how serious Suga-chan was about volleyball. Probably not at all, if he thought about it real hard. It wasn’t really Tooru’s business either, but the one thing he hated most was wasted potential so if he could help it, he’d do whatever it takes to make his friend so much as consider the options laid ahead of him.</p><p> </p><p>So he won’t rush <em> too </em> fast, but he won’t slack off either. He’ll pull Suga-chan along with him...hell, he’ll pull the entire <em> team </em> all the way to nationals if that’s what will make the silver-haired teen stay.</p><p> </p><p>He’d not had a chance to play on the same side of the court as Suga-chan yet, not in an official match at least. He had no idea how it felt to have him at his back, guarding them all like an angel with a ferocity of a devil. But he was sure that the moment he’d get a taste of it, it will be like a drug to him, one he would happily get addicted to and never get off of.</p><p> </p><p><em> ‘I’ll make you see just how amazing you really are,’ </em> he promised to himself, but out loud, he said only, “Damn, that was deep Suga-chan, even for you. You’re something else, you know that?”</p><p> </p><p>It earned him another disbelieving laugh and a shake of his head, “Whatever you say Tooru.”</p><p> </p><p>But it was fine for now. And anyway, even if he wanted to say more, he had no chance. </p><p> </p><p>They have finally reached his front porch and so the mood was gone in an instant Makoto saw them through the window he was perched on reading some kind of a magazine. As soon as he caught sight of the position they were in, his eyes had blown out like saucers and he threw the paper away, shouting on top of his lungs, “Nagisa, get the car!” which they could hear even on the outside.</p><p> </p><p>“Oh god, this is going to be awful,” Tooru mumbled weakly right before the front doors busted open and all he could hear as he got swallowed into the ocean of frantic concern was Suga-chan’s muffled snickering.</p><p> </p><p>***</p><p> </p><p>“Ok, so let me get this straight-”</p><p> </p><p>“Pfft, there’s nothing really straight about it,” Mattsun snickered, but Makki didn’t pay him any mind and continued drilling Suga with his pointed stare.</p><p> </p><p>“-you’re saying that you basically went there to chew the guy off, drag him home and instead you entered full gay panic mode and realized some kind of ultra level crush you apparently had for some time? <em> Goddamnit </em> Suga.”</p><p> </p><p>“I so wish I could’ve seen tha- Ouch! What the hell?!” apparently Mattsun’s comments didn’t fall on deaf ears entirely, for Makki chose this moment to elbow the middle blocker in the ribs, prompting him to kindly shut the fuck up.</p><p> </p><p>Suga was kind of grateful but at the same time, low-key wished he could just crawl into a small hole and stay there forever. He groaned, “I screwed up so badly, gaaah I wanna die. I can already see it: <em> ‘here lies Sugawara Koushi, killed by his stupid gay heart’, </em> written on my tombstone. Makki, kill me please, end my suffering…”</p><p> </p><p>“Nah, we can’t have you flipping over just yet,” the pink-head inched closer to the nest made of fluffy blankets and his entire plushie collection that he curled into as soon as he got back home from staying overnight at the hospital with Tooru and patted his silver hair reassuringly.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Turns out getting to the Oikawa household at their slower-than-snail’s pace took them so long he had missed the last train even before a panicking Nagisa-san shoved them all into the car without making the headcount and drove them all the way to the hospital at the speed that even most seasoned taxi drivers would’ve been freaked out at. He had half-a-mind to check how Tooru was fairing, holding on for dear life himself and doing his best not to topple over onto the other teen who was only wincing here and there at the more prominent bumps but seemed otherwise unbothered by the bottleneck speed. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Freaks, all of them. How Suga didn’t need to be put in the hospital himself after that hell of a ride will forever remain a mystery. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> What was even more surprising was that the moment Nagisa-san stopped the car on the ambulance drive (which Suga was pretty sure she was not allowed to do) and Makoto-san helped him drag Tooru out of the car and into the main building, there was already a doctor waiting for them with a stretcher on the ready. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> And that doctor was none other than Oikawa-san herself. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> “What do I have with you boy, I can’t even,” she sighed, throwing her son a disappointed look. Then, in a matter of seconds her expression twisted into a fond smile and she turned to Suga instead, “Thank you for taking care of this little idiot, Koushi-kun.” Frown on and back to Tooru, “Now let’s get you checked in, hmm?” </em>
</p><p> </p><p><em> Out of the corner of his eye, Suga could see that in the time it took Oikawa-san to scrutinise and mentally assess the damage, as if she had a roentgen in her eyes (which, as a doctor and a mother at that, she probably had), Nagisa-san had actually relocated the car to a more appropriate parking place, thank god. She joined them not long after that, a little out of breath like she’d been running a marathon instead of pulling off a one-man Formula 1 race in the middle of Sendai. </em> ‘Adrenaline does that to you,’ <em> Suga mused. </em></p><p> </p><p><em> After getting admitted, Oikawa-san took their little flock to the orthopedic ward, the ward leader having </em> miraculously <em> been on a night shift that night as well. What followed was a bunch of examinations, during which Suga was for some reason allowed to stay, even though everyone else besides Oikawa-san herself was excused, and in which he dutifully held Tooru’s hand for whenever he could, the other teen insisting on it for some reason. </em></p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Needless to say, Suga was having a hard time not to show how hard he was dying on the inside because of all of this. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>Looking back on it now, his embarrassment levels were spiking up so high he was overheating. He clutched his favorite Gengar plushie, leftover from the time his pokemon obsession was stronger than the volleyball one, and curled in on himself, rocking back and forth on the bed, “I just don’t know what am I supposed to do now.”</p><p> </p><p>He hadn’t necessarily had any love experience, his only other crush ending up a complete disaster, ruining the rest of his school life and middle school volleyball career. Sue him if he was feeling a little apprehensive about the whole thing now, drawing parallels and creating the absolute darkest scenarios for the future.</p><p> </p><p>Hence why he called over Makki for some advice and the pink-head not only drove all the way to his house in the middle of nowhere but also took Mattsun along with him, bringing a bunch of “reinforcements”, which purely consisted of three one-liter containers of chocolate ice-cream, supposedly one for each. And while it was appreciated, Suga no longer could tell if it was stress or nausea twisting his stomach. Probably a little bit of both.</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah, now that’s a tough one,”Mattsun added, slouching on Suga’s desk chair so much it bent backwards to the point that Suga was vaguely worried it would either snap or topple onto the floor. “This is the Trash King we’re talking about.”</p><p> </p><p>Suga sighed, feeling already like this conversation is going to physically pain him, “Literally why do you even call him that.”</p><p> </p><p>“Just stating the truth,” Makki pointed out matter-of-factly, not even flinching when Suga leveled him with a stern glare. “Look, as much as I don’t want to talk badly about the guy, I still don’t think really highly of him. I mean, you might have forgiven him for the shit that he said, but I didn’t. He’s an obnoxious, self-centered asshole - and that’s not exactly dateable material.”</p><p> </p><p>Suga winced at that. While he understood where his friend was coming from, it didn’t sit right with him at all either. “He’s not that bad and you know it.”</p><p> </p><p>“Maybe, but you’re biased,” Makki only scoffed, but before Suga had a chance to say something else, Mattsun hissed, “Ugh, I really don’t like that I agree with you.”</p><p> </p><p>At this, Suga turned eyes full of betrayal to the other teen, visibly making him squirm.</p><p> </p><p>“No, it’s not what you think, I just don’t like giving this kind of love advice,” he waved his arms around frantically, but after figuring out it didn’t clear anything up, he sighed, ruffling his hair in frustration, “It’s like, I dunno - if I agreed that asking Oikawa out would be a bad idea, it’d be like I was trying to decide for you, which is not what this is all about. As shitty as he might seem, it’s all up to you whether you want to give dating him a shot or not.”</p><p> </p><p>They fell into a stunned kind of silence after that, not really sure what to say. The first one to break out of this weird trance they had fallen into was Makki, mumbling a surprised, “Wow, that was <em> deep </em>Mattsun, what the hell.”</p><p> </p><p>The curly-haired teen just shrugged, “It’s what you were probably thinking, but worded better.” Before the other managed to jump off the bed and pounce on him, Mattsun added, “In your overprotective mama-mode, you just wanted to say that Suga deserves better, didn’t you?”</p><p> </p><p>Now Suga was absolutely <em> speechless. </em> He seized up his pink-haired friend from top to bottom, feeling mildly disbelieving and yet tremendously touched that he had been looking out for him so much. He was wallowing in self-pity so much that he didn’t notice what was going on around him, didn’t pay attention to his friend’s intentions. </p><p> </p><p>“Aww, who knew Makki could be so sweet,” he cooed at the matching pink flush coloring the pink-head’s cheeks and immediately after kicked him in the stomach, “Still, don’t speak lowly of Tooru, you’re the one who’s actually biased and in a wrong way at that.”</p><p> </p><p>Makki squawked in pain and pouted with the most betrayed look in his eyes it almost made Suga chuckle. And of course the pink-head saw that he was trying to contain his laughter and used that as an opportunity. He grabbed the closest pillow and rolled over, shooting to his feet and instantly jumping back in to smother Suga with it, which quickly evolved into a full-blown pillow fight, leaving all three of them breathless.</p><p> </p><p>In a way, it was exactly what he needed - shits and giggles breaking him out of his pity-session. But honestly, some part of him was so compelled to just crawl under those blankets and cry into his pillow that having his literal support squad here was making him tired. He didn’t have to speak out about it though - as usual, he was proven just how amazing friends he actually had, both of them staying over only a while longer after that and excusing themselves to not make him too uncomfortable. </p><p> </p><p>A blessing, those two, truly.</p><p> </p><p>As their voices faded away into the distance completely, Suga let out a deep sigh. He really had it bad and just admitting it was making him panic a little. Worst of all, he couldn’t even tell why that was. Tooru would never treat him the way Kayo and the others did - after all, he didn’t have any problem with Makki and Mattsun, so now that he knows about Suga, nothing should change, right? He hoped so.</p><p> </p><p>So why was he still afraid?</p><p> </p><p>“Ugh, this is so dumb,” Suga groaned, curling up even more and squishing the plushie against his chest. He was acting like some clumsy protagonist of a shoujo manga. <em> ‘How many times does this have to happen for me to get a grip, huh?’ </em></p><p> </p><p>“Heh, it’s gotten so quiet now,” a voice said from somewhere behind him, startling him out of his stupor abruptly. He whipped his head around to see a face peeping into his room, “Mom!”</p><p> </p><p>Sugawara Maiko smiled softly and shifted into full view, though she still didn’t move from the doorway, “I take it Takahiro-kun and Issei-kun already left? Kind of surprising that they went back so early”</p><p> </p><p>“O-oh yeah they were just...they said something about going to the movies…” he scrambled for an excuse meekly, feeling that he had already lost even before he said anything.</p><p> </p><p>“You’re an awful liar Koushi,” his mom finally decided to enter the room, sitting down on the bed next to him and sure enough, she read him like a book. Suga was never able to lie to her, even if he thought he was doing a good job at it, “You tend to hide behind your fringe when you do. It’s grown so long, maybe it’s time we cut it, hmm?”</p><p> </p><p>She started ruffling his hair playfully, tilting his head this way or that as if to make sure that <em> yes, </em> his hair did indeed get a little too long before suddenly cradling his face gently in her palms. A pair of hazel eyes Suga knew well from looking into the mirror every morning searched his and all thoughts of protest left him in a rush, “Something is troubling you, isn’t it?”</p><p> </p><p>Suga was never able to fool her. Though even as a kid, he didn’t lie too much - he never did anything against the rules, always being a good boy. The only few times he lied was when he didn’t want to worry her, bother her with his own problems, but even then it was futile. Maiko wore her nearly-white strands nestled in-between the gleaming silver with pride and those few tiny wrinkles with a huge smile as if to say, “This is how I got them and I wouldn’t have it any other way.”</p><p> </p><p>The first time she caught him making up that kind of lie, she flicked his forehead and called him silly, making him spill the beans faster than he could stop the words from pouring. So now, knowing it was pointless to deny, he cast his gaze downwards and mumbled weakly, “Yeah but... it’s dumb though. I don’t even know what is wrong.”</p><p> </p><p>Instinctively, he clutched his plushie tighter, feeling so much like a child at this moment that it was making him hella embarrassed. His mother only chuckled lightly, circling an arm around his back and leaning on the wall behind them, “Well let me be the judge of that, okay?”</p><p> </p><p>“It’s just that-,” Suga snuggled into her warmth, trying to find the words that would explain what exactly was making him so scared, but ultimately failing. So he decided to just start at the beginning, “Well, there’s this boy I like…”</p><p> </p><p>Maiko hummed to herself, rubbing circles on his back absentmindedly, “Do I know him?”</p><p> </p><p>“No, not personally at least,” Tooru wanted to visit him home for a while now, but the distance was far too inconvenient, forcing them to settle for meeting at Tooru’s on those few times they had a sleepover or a little study session. “He’s a friend on my team, the one I’ve been telling you about.”</p><p> </p><p>“Ah yes, the awkward setter boy,” she exclaimed, making Suga giggle slightly because trust his mother to take in all the stories of Tooru he had shared and remember him as “that awkward boy”. Her next question killed the amusement though and pushed it back down his throat, “You’re worried the same thing will happen as with Kayo-kun?”</p><p> </p><p>He had to pause for a bit before answering, wondering<em> ‘Is that really so?’ </em> but eventually shaking his head, “No, he’s not like Kayo. I know that even if he doesn’t feel the same way, he would never stop being my friend but- I don’t know. I don’t really understand it myself.”</p><p> </p><p>Suga looked up at his mother, flinching minutely upon noticing how sad and distant her gaze had gotten.<em> ‘Oh god, did I say something wrong? What happened?’ </em></p><p> </p><p>But before he could start panicking, Maiko asked softly, “Do you know what scares a parent the most?”</p><p> </p><p>He blinked at her in confusion and shook his head no.</p><p> </p><p>“Seeing your child cry,” she said softly, hugging him just a little bit tighter. “You go out of your way to keep them from harm’s way, constantly worrying and hoping nothing bad ever happens to them… But eventually, you realize that sometimes you can’t protect them from getting hurt and that’s the scariest thing in the world.”</p><p> </p><p>She held his gaze unflinchingly, expression entirely serious, “Last year I was watching you get so<em> sad, </em> I saw how your heart got broken and it broke my heart too. I never, absolutely <em> never </em> want to see anyone hurt you the way Kayo-kun did but at the same time, I know I can’t help it. That’s how it is when you love someone - returning your feelings doesn’t always mean you won’t get hurt eventually.”</p><p> </p><p>Suga knew from her tone that she was referring to his father. His illness was something that impacted both of them, leaving an empty space behind that so desperately needed to be filled. It broke them apart and at the same time pulled them closer together, both of them becoming solace for one another, the last bastion of love to uphold.</p><p> </p><p>It was why Suga didn’t confide in her for a very long time when the bullying started. Some team and classmates who knew of his situation would say that because he lived with only his mother and helped in the shop doing all the “girly things” he turned out gay and would make fun of him for it. He hated every insinuation like that with passion but at the same time couldn’t help but wonder <em> ‘Will mom think this way too? That it’s because of her? Would dad be disappointed?’ </em></p><p> </p><p>Even if he tried to keep those thoughts at bay, he kept spiraling back into them, unknowingly letting them sink deeper and closing his heart off even more. He could tell he was making her sad this way, becoming so distant, but he couldn’t shake the fear off and forget it. Until <em> that </em> match happened and the dam broke, letting his feelings overflow.</p><p> </p><p>She held him tight as he cried, kept saying that everything’s going to be okay, that there’s nothing in this world that would make her love him less. That all she ever wanted was for him to get all the happiness he deserved. That his father would be proud of him no matter what.</p><p> </p><p>That last one probably helped him the most, serving as an answer better than lighting up an incense stick in their family altar in the little alcove of their living room. He always admired his father - Sugawara Kouji was the kindest man and the best teacher he had ever known. He was also the one who got Suga hooked on volleyball, the two of them watching V-League matches together on TV. They were always so close...</p><p> </p><p>The fact that he was no longer there to say the words Suga wanted to hear the most was hard but, if it was his mother saying them, then he knew them to be true. </p><p> </p><p>She would never lie to him after all.</p><p> </p><p>So some part of him, that anxious and insecure part that grew inside of him under the onslaught of hurtful words of his peers, could feel a little bit calmer. And it meant the absolute <em> world </em> to him.</p><p> </p><p>“It takes time for a heart to heal,” Maiko said, petting his hair lightly and hugging him closer still, “You have been wounded badly Koushi. I know teenagers always rush into love as if it was a race, but you don’t have to do that.”</p><p> </p><p>Suga clutched her shirt with his palm, not saying anything because he sensed that she was choosing her words carefully, so badly wishing to get her message across.</p><p> </p><p>“All I want is for you to be happy. For that reason, I won’t tell you exactly what you should do about those feelings,” she took hold of his chin, lifting his face up from where it was buried in her chest, hidden behind a curtain of silver until their eyes met. They held a look so warm Suga felt himself tearing up on the spot, even though he promised himself he won’t cry this time. </p><p> </p><p>“I want you to know that you don’t need to confront them right away though. Take your time darling, let your heart heal. And when you feel like you’re ready to hear what that boy will tell you, ask him. <em> Only </em> when you’re ready.”</p><p> </p><p>He was outright sobbing now, leaving wet splotches on her shirt he was holding so tightly his knuckles turned white. It was that simple. He was scared of hearing no as an answer still. Even if he was right, and Tooru would never stop being his friend, a rejection would still be that. A <em> rejection. </em></p><p> </p><p>He didn’t feel like he was ready to hear that again.</p><p> </p><p>He wasn’t even sure how he’d feel if he heard a <em> yes </em> instead. There was something about this act of pouring his heart out that made him awfully vulnerable, scared him to no end. Here, in his mother’s arms he could admit it to himself with clarity. He was scared when he told Makki about Kayo. He was scared when he told Tooru about the team.</p><p> </p><p>He did not feel nearly strong enough to be that scared again.</p><p> </p><p>It all still hurt, burned like a hand held too close to the fire, stung like a nerve rubbed raw. He had friends who supported him now, promised him to be by his side, but it will take him time to believe it. He hated it, but he couldn’t dispel that single spark of a doubt still hidden deep inside his chest. Not yet.</p><p> </p><p>“Thanks mom,” Suga managed to choke out through tears and was eternally grateful for her strong embrace. Holding him tight, close, keeping his heart warm.</p><p> </p><p>“Anytime Koushi. Anytime.”</p><p> </p><p>He will take his time. He just hoped that by the time he’d become strong enough to face those feelings, they won’t grow into something he won’t be able to contain.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>You know how there are some lines you just can't wait to say and are looking forward to it? This chapter has so many of them I can't even.</p><p>The last scene for example - I had it drafted for a long while now, every sequence leading to Sugamama the Senior saying "Take your time." (which is this fic's motto at this point *hides in the Shame Corner*) but HOLY SHIT I DID NOT EXPECT TO CRY SO HARD. I do not care what hour I'll end up posting this at, y'all crying with me and you're doing it now.</p><p>On the off-hand, I spared you guys a huge cliffhanger in this chapter I had planned because after this long-ass I finally came up with a nice follow-up scene to it like, a few days ago, so I moved it all into the next one. No need to thank me :P </p><p>As usual, you can find me on tumblr under <a href="https://master-of-nyom.tumblr.com/">MasterOfNyom</a>  where you can read a little sneaky preview before the actual update. And guess what? Now you can also find me on twitter <a href="https://twitter.com/andyj_thewriter">here</a> if you prefer this form but bear with me, I'm still learning the ropes xD</p><p>Anyway, thanks for sticking around after a long wait and as always, see you next chapter!</p><p>Next time: Oikawa's knee injury Special Crack Edition, a very disgruntled Imomzumi and a few characters we've all been waiting to see ;)</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
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